


Shy

by The Manwell (Manniness)



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: M/M, Mistaken Identity, Modern AU, Phone Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-12-19
Updated: 2004-12-19
Packaged: 2020-10-25 01:31:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20715875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Manniness/pseuds/The%20Manwell
Summary: Duo wants to take his relationship with Wufei to the next level.  The next step is obvious... or is it?  Phone sex + a wrong number = the love of a lifetime!





	Shy

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again there faithful readers. This story reached out and bit me and, like a Gila monster, just won’t let go even after I beat it to death. (And, in case you’re wondering, Gila monsters have a reputation for locking their jaws on their prey and not even death can loosen their grip. Now you know...) 
> 
> So here we are: “Shy”. Some of the details about each of the characters’ professions will likely be strange. I didn’t do any research, so suspend your disbelief and just go with it, okay? Oh, and Quatre is wonderfully schwanky in this story. 
> 
> This story is purely FLUFF. You’ve been warned. *shakes head and grumbles* I can’t believe I actually wrote something this *winces* cute... Bleh...

Roughly based on the book “Too Hot to Sleep” by Stephanie Bond

Title borrowed from “Shy” by Ani Difranco from her album: “Not a Pretty Girl”

* * *

** **[One]** **

****“Oi, Q!**** How’s it hangin’ man?” Duo Maxwell feels his own grin widen when he hears his best friend’s smile come through crystal clear on the line.

“Duo! What’s up?”

Kicking back in his black corduroy papasan chair, he announces, “I’m giving you the honor of helping me break in my brand new __cordless __phone, dude!”

Quatre Winner laughs. “I’m flattered!” Then he sighs with mock regret. “Although I _am_ going to miss listening to you trip yourself when you get all tangled up in the line.”

Duo laughs. “Ah, now I can pace without fear of adverse consequences, my sadistic friend. Do those impressionable youngsters you teach realize you’re such a sick and twisted individual?”

Quatre chuckles. “I repress. And high school students are _hardly_ young and impressionable.”

“That’s it. They’re a bad influence on _you,_ man. You need to start hanging out at biker bars.”

“Oh, yeah,” Quatre drawls. “Maybe I can corrupt them. You know, share the love and all that.”

Duo laughs.

“So you never did answer me when I asked you what’s up,” Quatre points out into the following lull in the conversation.

Duo sighs. “Nada. Zip. Zero. Zilch. That’s what’s up, man.”

“Still not getting any action from that hunk you’re dating?”

“Dating,” Duo grumbles. “Let’s use that word in its loosest possible connotation, shall we? Yeah, ‘Fei still isn’t giving it up.” He sighs. “I just don’t get it man. I mean, is he just feeling sorry for me?”

“Uh, I don’t think _anyone_ would date you just because they feel sorry for you, Duo,” Quatre confides. “In fact, there are people in this town who would participate in an entire season of reality shows just to spend an evening with you.”

“So how come I’m not getting any?”

Quatre sighs. “Well, Wufei does come from a traditional Chinese family. Maybe he’s just self-conscious.”

“Hm. Maybe,” Duo doubtfully agrees. “But if that’s the case, what do I do about it?”

Immediately, Quatre advises, “Call him up and tell him a bedtime story.”

Duo snorts with laughter. “A bedtime story? You’re suggesting I call up Wufei and have phone sex?”

“How long have you been seeing each other again?”

Duo glares. “Six months and you know it,” he growls, very unhappy at the reminder.

“It’s time to do away with the chastity belt, then,” Quatre tells him. _“Way_ past time.”

“That’s... and interesting visual, Q.”

“You’re welcome.”

Duo ignores the smug tone in his friend’s voice. “So now I just have to figure out how to... you know...”

He can hear Quatre roll his eyes. “It works best without any clothes on.”

“Thanks for the tip, smart ass,” Duo returns. “I _meant_ how do I approach the topic?”

“You don’t,” Quatre tells him. “Just call him up, tell him to shut up and go with the flow. If he hates it, he’ll hang up and then you’ll know it’s probably not going to work out anyway.”

Duo nods. “Decisive, one way or another.” He sighs. “I’d just hate to lose him as a friend, you know?”

Quatre shrugs. “That’s just how I’d do it, but we’ve already established I’m a sick and twisted high school physics teacher.”

Grinning, Duo replies, “Yes. Yes, we have.”

“You’re a pleasant person when I can get you to agree with me.”

“Yeah, too bad that only happens when we’re talking about your perverted nature.”

“My perverted nature is a very worthy topic of conversation.”

Duo leans back and gazes up at the ceiling of his apartment as if asking for divine intervention. “I’m going to hang up now, Quatre.”

“But you’ll think about calling Wufei like I suggested?”

“I’ll think about it,” he promises automatically.

“Okay.” _Click._

With a sigh, Duo pulls the phone away from his ear and stabs the disconnect button. He lets the silence wash over him until excerpts from his conversation with Quatre begin to echo back to him. Finally stirring, Duo turns on the TV to a space documentary program and switches on his CD player. As Patrick Stewart talks about the latest developments in humankind’s understanding of the universe accompanied by ELO’s greatest hits, Duo gets up and wanders over to the phone base. He replaces the handset and watches as the small, red charging light blinks on.

Maybe Quatre is right, he muses. Perhaps he should call Wufei tonight and... initiate something. Although he has the smallest suspicion that if he actually has to dial Wufei’s phone number, he’ll lose his nerve before the phone even rings. Duo cocks his head to one side, regarding the phone which has – unwittingly – become his accomplice in tonight’s mischief.

“This thing has a speed dial, doesn’t it?” Duo mutters. He starts punching buttons until he finds what appears to be the correct combination and enters the number to his boyfriend’s apartment.

Boyfriend.

Duo snorts. It’s been more like a high school crush than an actual relationship. But he knows that’s going to change. Soon. One way or another.

****It had been**** a killer day.

Heero Yuy stumbles into his apartment, stripping off his uniform as he heads directly to the bathroom. Shower first, beer later, he’d decided before he’d even unlocked his door. He adjusts the temperature of the water and wonders why he’d ever thought becoming a police officer would be a good career for him. It’s a familiar internal conversation.

He stands under the spray, attempting to wash the self-doubt from his mind. He tells himself he’s good at what he does. He tells himself this is only one bad day. An isolated incident. He tells himself he doesn’t particularly mind the fact that he comes home to an empty apartment every evening.

Wait. Where had that come from? And what did it have to do with his crappy day at work?

Heero shakes his head and decides maybe he’d better have that beer a little earlier than he’d planned. He gives up on the shower. Two minutes later, with a towel wrapped around his waist as he’s leaning in to the fridge to fish out a can of Asahi Dry from behind a Styrofoam take-out box of yaki soba, the phone rings.

He groans.

Will this day never end? He glares at the phone before reluctantly abandoning his alcohol and slamming the door shut. Heero stalks over to the phone, already rehearsing his refusal to come in for an emergency tonight. At this point, he doesn’t __care__ if he’s on call. If the dispatcher tells him to come in tonight, he’ll quit. End of story.

Heero scoops up the phone and growls, “Yeah?”

There’s a slight pause on the other end of the line and he has to smirk. Obviously, his caller is rethinking the wisdom of having dialed this number. But then he thinks he hears the person on the other end of the line drawing a deep, fortifying breath.

“Hey, babe.”

Heero blinks at the warm but nervous greeting.

“I... know it’s late. But I, ah... I’ve been thinking lately. You know. About, well, um, us... and I... I...”

Heero opens his mouth to inform his caller that he has the wrong number.

“I’m completely naked right now.”

Heero’s mouth snaps shut. And his caller doesn’t hesitate to take advantage of the opportunity.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” the soft, husky male voice says.

The tone of that voice affects Heero in a way he never would have expected. His body temperature spikes along with his pulse.

“And it’s been killing me that you never touch me. I want you to touch me so bad. Will you? Or do I have to beg?”

Heero’s lips part of their own accord at the erotic longing in that voice. His breaths become shallow and his lips dry. He attempts to reply, but no sound comes forth. The voice on the other end continues relentlessly.

“All I have to do is think about your hands on me and I’m ready. I’m so ready. I’m lying here waiting for you. Imagining that you’ll walk through that door and see me and want me. I’ve left my hair down just for you. I’ve been playing with it while I was waiting. My fingers trail over one strand as it falls over my shoulder, down my chest, across my stomach, and curls around... Do you remember how long my hair is? Can you guess where it ends?”

A small moan vibrates through the line in response and it takes Heero a moment to realize he’d been the one to utter it. But even when he realizes this, the spell his mysterious caller has woven with his sensual imagery is hardly broken.

“Will you touch my hair? Will you trial your fingers down my body? Follow its path down?”

Heero’s knees turn to water and he finds himself sitting on the windowsill with his head leaning back against the pane. “Yes,” he whispers into the phone, picturing the other man surrounded by candlelight, his long hair flowing over and around his nude body. Part of Heero’s mind wonders what in the nine hells is wrong with him, fantasizing about someone he hasn’t even seen... a __man__ he doesn’t even know. But the hand not cradling the phone to his ear reaches up to touch his own damp hair then follows the progression of that imaginary long tress down... down...

“Ah...” Heero can hear the echo of his own voice over the line and it only heightens his senses.

“Mmm... Just like that. Oh, yeah. This is... exactly... what I need. Give it to me, baby. Please...”

The husky voice thickens and thins alternately with lust and panting breaths, seducing Heero even further. “Whatever you want,” he hears himself moan.

A deep soulful groan is his reward. “You. I just want you.”

Heero gasps at the need in the other man’s voice. “Touch me,” he rasps, aching to advance to the next level.

“Then open you legs for me, lover. Let me see you. Let me know you.”

“Ah...” Heero leans further back against the window and slowly parts his legs.

“Can you feel my hand on the inside of your thigh? Can you feel me slowly, so slowly, slide my palm up? Can you?”

“Yes...”

“I’m almost there, baby. Are you ready for me? Are you sure this is what you want?”

_“Yes...”_

“Mmm... Then I’ll give it to you... Oh, yeah. Can you feel me around you? Ah, you’re so hot... Oh, god...”

An incoherent sound escapes Heero’s lips: a sharp moan of shocking pleasure. “Ah! Let me... let me come... let me...”

A soft groan answers him. “You’re so sexy when you beg... So hot... You know I’ll give you anything... Anything at all...”

The devotion in that voice washes over Heero, heating his body to an unbearable level. “With me,” he manages to gasp into the phone.

“I’m... almost there... lover.”

Heero allows himself to be assaulted by the sound of his own breaths, the sound of his mysterious lover’s passionate pants, the feel of skin against skin. And then every sensation intensifies in a powerful rush, overwhelming him. His body stiffens and a moan falls from his parted lips to mingle with the soft exclamation that signals his partner’s release.

For a long moment, both are content to simply breathe. But then that soft, husky voice begins speaking again.

“Thank you,” he tells Heero. “I wasn’t sure how you felt about me, but... Thank you.”

Heero opens his mouth, trying to force a coherent reply together but the intensity of his release has robbed him of not only logic and thought, but the ability to speak as well.

Such, however, is not the case for his caller. “I... I don’t expect you to act any differently or anything. I know you’re shy, but... but can I call you again?”

“Tomorrow night?” Heero manages to pant out, his heartbeat beginning to accelerate at the thought.

“Tomorrow night. Sleep well, lover.”

Heero makes a small sound of agreement in the back of his throat. “’Night.”

He remains slumped against the window for a long while even after the dial tone begins to buzz softly in his ear. Switching off the cordless phone, Heero Yuy closes his eyes and tries to figure out what had just happened. Obviously, a man had just called him and they’d had phone sex, but... Who had he been? Some long-haired secret admirer? Heero can’t think of anyone he might know or would have seen in passing who would meet that description. And how long had the other man felt this way?

Heero shivers at the thought of someone watching him, wanting him, wishing he’d just reach out and touch him, needing it so badly he’d managed to find Heero’s unlisted number and call him up to tell him how he feels.

But who _is_ he?

Heero glances at his phone and scrolls through the recent callers list on his caller ID and jots down the number on the back of a convenience store receipt. Tomorrow he’s going to get some answers, Heero decides.

Tomorrow.

****“So?**** How’d it go?”

Duo nods to one of the nurses before slipping into the thankfully empty break room. Once the door has been securely shut behind him, he mutters, “Damn it, Q. I’m in the middle of my patient rotation and you’re calling to ask me if I masturbated on the phone last night?”

“Yes.”

Duo sighs. “You’ve got five minutes and then I have to get back to work,” he says firmly.

“Did you call him?”

“Yes.”

“Did you go for it?”

“Yes.”

“Did he like it?”

“I’d say so.”

“So have you reached an understanding about your relationship, then?”

Duo winces. “Um, well... Yes and no.”

“Explain.”

Duo tells him, “I, ah, sorta backed out at the last minute and told him this wouldn’t affect our relationship of he didn’t want it to.”

Quatre sighs. “You’re hopeless.”

“Yeah, I know. But he wants me to call him again tonight.”

“Oh, well, that’s encouraging.”

“Yeah...” Duo replies, not sounding convinced.

“What’s wrong?”

Duo shrugs. “I just... This, um, arrangement is great and everything, but I still want, you know...”

“His ass?”

“Quatre!”

“Sorry,” he replies, not sounding sorry at all.

“You are such a perv! Are your students listening to you right now?”

“Nah. I locked them out of the classroom. They don’t care.”

Duo snorts.

“So you found out he’s not adverse to the sexual side of your relationship and he’s _not_ seeing you out of pity so what’s missing?”

Duo sighs. Again. “The sappy stuff, I guess.”

“Oh. That.”

“Yes. That.”

“Well, one step at a time, Duo. You’ll get there.”

“Hopefully before my golden retirement bash.”

“If not, hey, what a way to celebrate it!”

Smiling, Duo shakes his head and glances at his watch. “Good bye, Quatre.”

Flipping his cell phone closed, Duo drops it back into his jacket pocket. The last thing he wants to do at this precise moment is get back to his rounds. But then again, they’d probably take his mind off of his relationship quandary. With a deep breath, Duo squares his shoulders and gets back to work.

****Sometimes, ****Heero hates his job. But then there are times when he absolutely _despises_ it. He listens to the code coming over the scanner and doesn’t even glance at his partner. He knows he and Trowa are probably the closest unit to the scene.

A hit and run.

Jesus.

Heero quickly maneuvers the car around and heads for the scene while Trowa radios back their progress. He takes these few moments preceding their arrival to get himself mentally prepared for the chaos and pain that’s likely waiting for them. Still, he marvels at how hideous people can be to one another.

And that thought is only reinforced and compounded when he and Trowa discover that the victim is a child. Heero leaves Trowa to interview the witnesses as he kneels down next to the young boy who remains unconscious. He checks the boy’s pulse and carefully moves his fingers through the child’s hair to check for head injuries. Luckily, that’s when the ambulance pulls up. Reluctant to abandon the small child, Heero tells the EMTs what he can before he turns his attention to helping Trowa question the bystanders. He takes careful, meticulous notes during each short interview. Although no one had gotten the license plate number, the general description of the car doesn’t vary very much from person to person.

Heero takes down the names, addresses, and phone numbers of everyone present before turning to Trowa just as the ambulance pulls away with its lights flashing.

“Where are they taking him?” Heero asks quietly.

“Our Lady of Mercy Children’s Hospital,” Trowa replies just as softly.

Heero spends one more moment staring after the ambulance, wondering how the kid’s going to be, wondering if they’ll be able to find the driver who’d hit him.

“Sometimes I absolutely hate people,” Heero hears himself whisper.

Trowa snorts as he turns back to their car. “Then why did you become a police officer?”

Heero forces a smirk, forces the humor everyone else in the department uses to deal with the harshness they witness every day in this job. “Chicks dig a man in uniform.”

Trowa chuckles but Heero doesn’t. He’s too busy wishing he didn’t have an empty apartment to go home to tonight. And although he’d been looking forward to hearing from his mysterious caller again, the sex just doesn’t seem like enough at the moment. Not nearly enough.

****Duo finishes**** washing his hands at the sink and glances at the clock. He’d been in the operating room for hours and he’s still not sure he’ll be making it home tonight in time to call Wufei. In fact, he’s not entirely sure he’s even in the mood. He sighs, deciding to think about it later. For now there are reports to write up and file, charts to check, and his newest patient’s status to keep a close watch on.

For a hit-and-run, it could have been worse. A lot worse. At least the kid has the chance to walk again. Duo closes his eyes and sighs heavily, knowing that if he hadn’t talked to Quatre that afternoon, he would have finished his rounds sooner. And if he had finished his rounds sooner, he wouldn’t have been in the hospital when the boy had come in. He would have been on his way home and one of the other residents would have had to deal with it. But Duo’s glad that hadn’t been the case. It’s just too bad he’s going to have to break the less-than-encouraging news to the kid’s parents.

Duo’s lips compress into a tight line as he tries to hold back his anger and dredge up the air of professionalism he’ll need. He scrubs his hands dry and charges out the door. It’s best to just get this part over with. So he heads for the waiting room, knowing the way by heart. He reaches out and pushes the door open.

“Family of Bobby Edison?” Duo asks neutrally. And he watches as everyone in the room who had looked up eagerly at his entrance now grudgingly go back to their coffee or magazine. Suppressing a sigh, Duo turns to check with the nurses. “Hey, can someone page the Edison family?”

The nurse closest to the phone reaches for the receiver in compliance with Duo’s request. He nods his thanks and nearly turns to head back to the break room to get caught up on some paperwork when a man’s voice stops him. “Excuse me, doctor?”

Duo looks up and into a pair of the darkest, bluest eyes he’s ever seen. So blue they nearly match the navy of the man’s uniform. “Yes?”

“Heero Yuy,” the officer says, extending his hand. “My partner and I were the first ones on the scene. How’s Bobby doing?”

Duo stares at the other man for a brief moment, marveling at that voice. He grasps Heero’s hand and tries to ignore how warm and firm the clasp is. “Duo Maxwell,” he replies, getting his own introduction out of the way. “Bobby came through the surgery just fine,” he says vaguely. “But now we’re waiting for the swelling to go down along his spine to see if there’s been any permanent damage.”

Heero nods, the muscles along his jaw clenching at the news and its unfortunate implications. “I see.” There’s a slight pause. “I... Thank you, Dr. Maxwell.”

Duo offers the other man a lopsided grin. “No need for thanks, Officer Yuy. Just let me know if you find the son of a bitch that hit this boy.”

A small smile and a nod is Heero’s response. “Deal.”

Duo shares a long, warm look with the young officer which does wonders for his tension. It’s as if the other man’s mere presence has the power to soothe and strengthen him. And as they stand there, Duo witnesses the lessening of Heero’s tension as well.

“Doctor Maxwell?”

Duo turns at the sound of his name and sees a nurse approaching with a worried couple in tow. “Yes?”

“These are the Edisons.”

“Bobby is your son?” Duo asks gently.

The man nods and puts an arm around his wife who seems too anxious to actually bother with words at the moment. Duo motions for them to follow him to a quiet corner and never gets the chance to say good-bye to the young officer. And with his attention focused on the worried parents, he also misses the long stare Heero Yuy directs at his length of carefully braided hair.

_****“I’ve left**** my hair down just for you... It falls over my shoulder, down my chest, across my stomach, and curls around... Do you remember how long my hair is? Can you guess where it ends?”_

Heero shivers as the memory of that voice wraps around him. Jesus, the sound of his voice had been so... _is_ so... He continues staring at the back of the young doctor, stunned that perhaps he’s discovered the identity of his caller.

But there’s so much that doesn’t make sense. And he can’t think about it here. Absolutely not. 

Before Duo Maxwell can finish his discussion with the Edisons, Heero flees... right back to his desk at the station and his laptop. He forces himself to sit down as he waits for the computer to boot up. Heero digs out the 7-11 receipt from his pocket and stares at the phone number he’d written down. Thus far, he hadn’t been able to find the time to call the local phone company about it. Maybe now he won’t have to.

As soon as his desktop flickers to life, Heero enters the DMV database. At the command prompt, he types “Duo Maxwell” and leans back in his chair as the request is savored by the circuits.

_If _Duo had called him last night, then _where _had he seen Heero before? In fact, it had sounded as if he’d known Heero personally. But he’d never seen Duo Maxwell before today. He’s absolutely sure of it. How could he _not_ remember meeting the young man with such unusual eyes and hair? Well, regardless, Duo knows him. Doesn’t he?

Heero thinks back to their brief exchange at the hospital. He recalls the way Duo had paused after he’d spoken, the way he’d taken a moment to examine Heero, the way he’d almost hesitated to shake his hand. Had Duo been surprised that Heero hadn’t recognized him?

The computer screen flickers, announcing its search results. Heero straightens in his chair and finds himself staring into a warm gaze. Duo Maxwell. He smoothes out the receipt and quickly compares the number in Duo’s file to the one in his hand.

They match.

Duo Maxwell _had_ called him last night.

One mystery solved...

... it’s just the rest of it that doesn’t make any sense.

****Exhausted,**** Duo almost trips over his own feet as he pushes his apartment door open. God _damn_ it had been a long day. And night. He glances at the clock and winces at the late hour. Wufei is probably asleep by now...

With a sigh, Duo wanders over to his new phone and checks his messages. There’s only one. He punches the replay button and Quatre’s voice fills the room.

“Hey, Duo. Don’t forget to take notes when you call Wufei later. The piss-poor details you offered me today are __so__ not going to cut it next time, got it? Oh, and good luck tonight.”

Duo sighs heavily and smiles weakly. “What a perv,” he mumbles affectionately. “And no, I am _not_ taking notes for you. Get your own damn love life.”

He scoops up the phone and shuffles in the direction of his bedroom, pulling his shirt off over his head as he goes. He sinks down on the edge of the bed and leans down to pull off his shoes and socks. Wiggling his toes into the plush carpeting, Duo gazes thoughtfully at the phone. It’s a little odd that Wufei hadn’t called to tell him not to bother calling after all. But... maybe... just maybe Wufei had decided to wait up for him.

Duo grins at the thought. Who would have guessed one little phone call could do such a 180 on their relationship? He almost laughs at that. But his expression softens as he reaches for the phone and contemplates the number keys. On the one hand, it now seems so stupid that he’d been _worried_ about Wufei’s reaction to increasing the intimacy between them. And on the other hand... it’s damn nice to think of his boyfriend waiting up to talk to him. He just feels a little guilty at being totally wiped out tonight. Ah, well, it’d still be nice to hear a friendly voice.

Still smiling, Duo utilizes the speed dial and flops back down on his bed. He listens to the phone ring once... twice... and then:

“Hello?”

“Hey,” Duo purrs into the phone. “How was your day?”

There’s a slight pause. “Interesting.”

“Interesting how?”

“It... I... I’m glad you called.”

Duo smiles broadly. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. You sound really tired.”

“Mmm,” Duo hums. “I am.”

“Then why don’t you just get some rest?”

Duo chuckles, feeling warmed by the quiet concern. “Oh, I’m not _that_ tired.” And, oddly enough, all of a sudden, he isn’t. “Besides, I’m gonna need some help getting undressed before I can climb in bed.”

“What do you need help with?”

Duo shifts his legs on the bed, letting his knees fall open slightly. “Just my jeans.”

“That doesn’t sound too daunting. I think I can manage those.”

“Yeah?” Duo moves his free arm from where it rests across the bedspread to curl it behind his head on the pillows. “I’m all ears, baby.”

“Then that’s where I think I’ll start” is the soft reply. “Close your eyes.”

“Okay. They’re closed.”

“That spot below your ear... Soft. Quiet. I could just breathe you in... all night.”

“Mmm...” Duo murmurs, imagining the strong, lithe body leaning over him, the only point of contact being his neck and his lover’s lips. “More, lover.”

“Then open your mouth for me.”

Duo exhales against the phone, his lips parted and waiting.

“Perfect,” his lover whispers into his ear and Duo feels a shiver run the length of his body. “Wet your lips for me.”

Duo does.

“I’m close to you. Very close. I open my mouth and draw your tongue in. Suck on it.”

“Ah...”

“Slow and soft. Then harder.”

“Nuh...”

“Want more?”

“Yes.”

“Thighs wide, angel.”

Duo groans softly as he complies.

“I’m on top of you, rocking you.”

Eyes still closed, Duo feels his hips adopt a lazy rhythm.

“Shall I rock you to sleep just like this?”

“N-no... More...”

“Then don’t stop moving, angel.” There’s a slight pause and then: “I trail my fingertips under you chin... down your neck... over your nipple... down to your stomach... circle your navel. I want you, angel.”

“Ah, god, baby...” Duo manages, his fingers ghosting over his skin just as his lover had described.

“A little lower now. I’m at your jeans.”

“Off... take them off, lover.”

“I am. Lift your hips for me.”

Duo lifts his hips and shoves the material down his legs with one hand.

“Thighs wide again.”

Duo groans into the phone. There’s simply something about this position – open, vulnerable, inviting, provocative – that makes him move his hips a little faster.

“Put your legs around me, angel.”

Duo shudders at the warm promise in that whisper. “Ahhh! Ah, god...”

“We’re moving together. My palm slides up your side until I can brush your nipple with my thumb.”

With difficulty, Duo inhales a shaky, shivering breath.

“I could come just like this, watching you. Amazing.”

“Mmm... Ah... a little... m-more...”

“My hands move down to the backs of your knees. I push your legs up. Oh, Jesus, angel. I can see all of you.”

Duo can’t stop the weak moan at the incredible visual his lover is building.

“I’m still rocking you. You can feel my skin against every inch of you. I put one of your legs over my shoulder. I’m going to touch you angel...”

“Please...”

“Angels don’t beg.”

“Aaahhh...”

“I’ve got you now. You’re going to come with me...”

“With you...” Duo echoes, not even aware of speaking. He’s so close. So incredibly close. He listens to the sexy pants echoing in his ear, imagines the feel of that hot skin sliding against his entire body. And then he’s there. Duo gasps out his climax as the darkness behind his eyes flashes white. For countless minutes of labored heartbeats, Duo simply lays there, his body tingling.

He’s almost asleep when a soft voice in his ear reminds him the night’s not quiet over yet. He struggles to stay awake.

“Thank you, angel.”

“For what?” Duo replies, his voice slurred with exhausted satisfaction.

“For not giving up on me. I never knew how you felt. I’m sorry. Will you let me try to make it up to you?”

Duo smiles sleepily. “Yeah.”

“Good night, Duo. I’ll see you soon.”

“Mmm,” Duo manages, pressing the disconnect button and rolling over into slumber. He nuzzles his pillow, imagining it’s the warm flesh of his lover, and falls into his dreams.

* * *

** **  
** ** ** **[Two]** **

****“Where the hell**** are you going?”

Heero looks up from pushing his chair into his desk. With a frown, he glances at the clock before looking back at his partner. “It’s five o’ clock,” he points out.

Trowa gives him a long, searching look and elaborates, “Yes. It is precisely five o’ clock and you are leaving exactly when you are supposed to.” Pause. “Are you ill?”

A smirk finds its way onto Heero lips as he realizes Trowa is poking fun at his workaholic habits. Slyly, Heero drawls, “ Maybe...”

Trowa snorts. “You’re falling for someone,” he observes, deadpan.

Heero almost laughs. “I think I’ve passed that stage...”

Trowa arches a brow in inquiry.

“... And no, I’m not going to tell you about it. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bright and early,” Trowa calls after him.

Heero fairly jogs down the front steps of the police department and heads for his jeep. He swings in behind the wheel and starts the engine. In minutes, he’s pulling out of the parking lot and turning toward the hospital. Absolutely elated at the prospect of seeing Duo again, he turns on the radio and flips through the channels until he happens upon a song that reflects his mood.

Placing his hand back on the wheel, Heero notices the dust on his fingertips. He glances at the radio and realizes this is the first time he’s ever used it. He almost laughs when he realizes he’d bought the damn car without even checking the radio before hand. Shaking his head, Heero moves into the next lane to get ready for his turn.

He knows he ought to be more nervous about seeing Duo again. After all, how is he going to explain the fact that he’d never noticed the young man before yesterday? But Heero had already decided that he’d take things one step at a time and wait for Duo to bring it up. His priority here is to get to know the incredible creature who had chosen to gift him with his passion. Heero still doesn’t understand how Duo could feel so strongly for him, but he isn’t going to question it. Not when having Duo in his life is suddenly making everything... well, _livable._

Heero finds a spot in outpatient parking and heads for the main entrance of the children’s hospital. He briefly debates asking for Duo, but decides to check on Bobby Edison first. The nurse at the front desk directs him to the correct floor.

As he strides through the halls, he watches for Duo but comes to Bobby’s room before he actually spots the young doctor. He leans into the open threshold and spies a young boy lying down in bed, gazing out the window at the sky. Heero thinks the kid looks positively bored to tears.

Carefully, he knocks on the door frame and the boy sighs. “I don’t want any Jell-O,” he says with exasperation.

“That’s good because I’m fresh out.”

Bobby stiffens then turns his head toward the doorway. His wide, hazel eyes take in the sight of Heero’s uniform.

“Mind if I come in?”

The boy shakes his head and Heero steps into the room.

“My name is Heero,” he says, feeling a little awkward in the face of the boy’s blatant curiosity. “And you’re Bobby, right?”

Bobby nods, eyes still incredibly wide. “Am I in trouble?” the kid finally asks in a thin voice.

Heero pulls a chair next to the bed and sits down so that he’s not towering over the boy. “Did you do something wrong?”

Bobby shakes his head vigorously. “No, sir.”

“Well, then, you’re not in trouble.”

The small shoulders relax against the pillows.

“My partner and I are trying to find the person who hurt you,” Heero says softly. “Do you remember anything about the accident?”

Bobby sighs and shakes his head. “No. My mom and dad keep asking me, but I don’t remember.”

“That’s okay,” Heero replies quietly. He watches Bobby’s fingers twist in the blankets and wonders how extensive the damage to his spine had been. He doesn’t consider asking Bobby about it. There’s no point in making the kid think about the accident any more than necessary.

“So, what’s fun to do around here?”

Bobby gives Heero a long, level look. Obviously, he thinks this cop is off his rocker. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” Heero echoes.

The boy sighs. “Sometimes the nurses try to make me eat that gross Jell-O stuff and sometimes the doc stops in to talk to me... But, yeah. Nothing.”

“Hm,” Heero murmurs, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a deck of playing cards. “Do you know how to play cards?”

Bobby shrugs. “Go Fish and solitaire.”

“How about poker?”

Bobby’s eyes go wide again. He shakes his head.

“Oh, really? Well, do you want to learn?”

He nods vigorously.

Heero suppresses a smile and maneuvers the low bed tray into place over Bobby’s lap. “Well, the first thing you need to know is how to shuffle the cards,” Heero tells him. Bobby’s eyes stay on Heero’s hands and the playing cards as Heero begins his explanation. After supervising a few of Bobby’s attempts to shuffle, Heero deals the cards and explains the rules. He’s just finished telling Bobby about the importance of a poker face when a figure pauses silently on the threshold to observe the lesson.

****Duo hands**** the approved medication recommendations back to the head nurse on duty and gives into the temptation to lean against the counter.

“So, Dolores,” he muses playfully, “what else is new around here that doesn’t need a signature on it?”

She smiles without looking up from her filing. “It’s pretty quiet today,” she tells him. “The Edisons were here earlier but now that police officer who was by yesterday is visiting with Bobby.”

Duo’s brows arch at hearing that. “Really?”

Dolores nods. “I walk by every few minutes.” She finally glances up and Duo can see a twinkle in her eyes, “He’s teaching him how to play poker.”

“Oh, well I’ve _got_ to see this,” Duo mutters, strolling down the hall in the direction of Bobby’s room. He finds it difficult to imagine the quiet, reserved Officer Yuy chatting it up with a seven-year-old. And he finds it __extremely__ difficult to believe that he’d manage to explain all the intricacies of poker in a manner a sever-year-old would find entertaining.

Coming abreast of the open doorway, Duo carefully moves close enough to see into the room. And sure enough, Heero Yuy is sitting in a chair beside Bobby’s bed with his dark blue shirtsleeves rolled up almost to his elbows and the first couple of buttons undone at his collar.

“Okay,” Heero says in that quiet voice of his, “are you ready to play a game?”

Bobby nods, grinning widely.

Heero collects the scattered cards with efficient movements and Duo watches the play of muscles in his forearms as he does so. “You shuffle and deal, then,” Heero says, setting the now reconstructed deck in front of Bobby.

It takes a few tries, but Bobby does manage to get his small hands to shuffle the deck of worn cards. He carefully deals and just before they both pick up their cards, Heero tells him, “Don’t forget the poker face.”

Bobby nods seriously and carefully collects his cards. Duo watches as Bobby observes Heero’s movements surreptitiously and attempts to copy the way Heero rearranges the cards in his hand. After a moment of heavy silence, Heero selects two of his cards and places them on the table, tapping twice. Bobby hands over two new cards and replaces one of his own.

Duo covers his mouth with one hand to hide his smile when he sees Heero and Bobby stare seriously at each other for a long moment. Then Heero lays down his cards and announces, “Pair of fives.”

Bobby reveals his cards as well. “Pair of jacks.”

Heero mock groans and Bobby laughs.

Duo finds himself grinning in the doorway at them. It’s nice to hear Bobby laugh. Thus far Duo’s only been able to drag a smile out of him.

Before they can restart the game, Duo makes his presence known by stepping into the room. “Hey, Bob-meister. Are you teaching Officer Yuy how to play cards?”

The boy grins. “Heya, Doc,” he greets happily. “I just won.”

“I saw,” Duo replies, glancing at Heero with a smile. “Besides giddy with victory, how are you feeling, kiddo?”

Bobby takes a moment to think about it. “I guess I’m getting a little more sore...”

Duo nods. “Okay. We’ll get you something to eat and another something to help with the soreness.”

Bobby opens his mouth to speak but Duo holds up his left hand, placing his right over his heart. He vows, “It won’t be Jell-O. I promise.”

The boy laughs.

Duo steps over to the abandoned game and studies Bobby’s cards before lifting up the boy’s discard. He nods thoughtfully. “That was a good move, Bobby.”

Bobby beams.

Duo leans over Heero’s shoulder and after scanning the policeman’s cards, picks up the ones he’d forfeited. And finds himself staring at a pair of kings. Duo blinks before transferring his gaze to Heero.

Still lounging in the plastic hospital chair, Heero shrugs. “He’s got beginner’s luck,” he confides nodding to Bobby.

“Yeah, imagine that,” Duo muses, replacing the cards. He dares a glance at the officer again and their gazes meet for a brief instant. Immediately, he’s drawn to that look in Heero’s dark eyes: silent laughter for the shared joke, warmth, and something like admiration but... deeper.

A little unsettled by the young man’s intense and... intimate look, Duo turns back to his patient. “Doctor Harding is going to be here soon, so she’ll be stopping in later, okay, Bobby?”

“Sure, Doc.”

“I’ll tell the nurses not to make you eat Jell-O and I’ll see you in the morning. That cool, dude?”

“That’s cool.”

“Cool.”

Duo glances at the clock and then at Heero. Taking the cue, Heero nods. “It’s getting pretty late and you wore me out,” he tells the boy. Gesturing to the cards, Heero continues, “You keep practicing and we’ll play again tomorrow afternoon, okay?”

“Okay!”

Duo and Heero wave good-bye to Bobby before continuing on to the nurse’s station. Heero hovers nearby as Duo relays the anti-Jell-O request. With his promise honored, Duo returns his attention to Heero and smiles.

“Thanks for visiting with him. He’s been bored since his parents left this morning.”

Heero nods.

As they begin walking down the hall to some undisclosed location, Duo asks quietly, “Have you found out who the driver was?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, regardless,” Duo says gamely, “it’s good to see you visiting him.”

Heero nods again and Duo finds the other man’s deep silence to be oddly endearing. It seems not so much that Heero has nothing to say, but that he has too much. Duo pauses in front of the break room door, intending to get changed and head home but rather than bidding him good night, Heero hovers for a moment.

“Have you eaten yet tonight?”

Duo blinks at the softly spoken question. “Um, no. No, I haven’t.”

“Me, either,” Heero replies with a small – almost shy – grin.

Tilting his head to one side, Duo speculates, “You’re asking me to dinner?”

“Well, I haven’t actually _asked_ yet. But, yes, I was planning on it.”

Duo grins at the subtle teasing. “Stole your thunder, did I?”

“Decisively.”

“So now you think I should make it up to you?” he jokes.

One corner of Heero’s mouth lifts into a very appealing smirk. “I think...” he beings, drawing out his reply deliberately, “that you need to eat and I need to eat and I sure as hell don’t want to go to Deidokoya by myself. Again.”

“Deidokoya?” Duo echoes. “That sounds Japanese or something.”

“Probably because it __is__ Japanese.”

“Oh, well thanks for the invite but I’m not really much of a sushi lover.”

Heero smiles softly, crosses his arms over his chest, and rolls his eyes. “There’s a lot more to Japanese food than sushi.”

“Like what?”

“Like edamame which you eat right out of their beer-salted pods. Like yaki soba which is marinated and stir-fried noodles with pork and cabbage. Like omomochi which is deep fried potato cakes that you dip in sauce before eating. Like sweet, buttery kabocha ice cream served in a frozen half of a small pumpkin...”

Duo’s stomach growls loud enough to interrupt Heero’s words.

“Wow,” Duo says, attempting to hide his embarrassment. Heero just grins and gazes at Duo expectantly.

Duo attempts to hold out, but the food Heero had described _had_ sounded pretty damn good. He sighs. “All right, Officer Yuy. You win. Let me get my stuff.”

Had he been having this conversation with Quatre, Duo would have expected his friend to be more than a bit smug at Duo’s surrender. And Wufei probably wouldn’t have bothered to explain the cuisine so thoroughly in the first place; he would have just shrugged and suggested another restaurant. But the reaction Duo receives from Heero is a gentle, warm smile and soft words:

“We both win.”

They stare at each other for a moment before Heero reaches around Duo and pushes the door open for him. Reluctantly, Duo disappears into the break room, leaving Heero to wait in the hall.

As he changes into his street clothes and hangs up his coat, Duo wonders why he’d accepted the invitation. Surely he could have called Wufei and asked him to go out for dinner? Duo sighs and shakes his head at his spontaneous acceptance. But, if he is honest with himself, Duo must admit that he’d wondered about the other young man when they’d met the day before. Wondered what thoughts and dreams lay beneath the quiet exterior. Wondered about that small, tentative smile right before the Edisons had arrived. Heero Yuy had seemed a little out of practice when it had come to smiling. And Duo wonders what it would take to see that hesitant expression more often.

Duo shuts his locker door and spins the combination lock. He probably shouldn’t be going out to dinner with Heero. It could make things awkward between himself and Wufei, but when he’d looked into Heero’s eyes, he’d seen a man with few friends who had the capacity for so much more. That had been what his instincts had told him, anyway. And Duo’s instincts about people are hardly ever off.

****When Heero**** had walked into Deidokoya with Duo, the entire wait staff had done a double-take. In the year that he’d been frequenting this particular eatery, Heero had _always _come alone. He’d felt the stares of every employee and even a few of the regulars and Heero’d had to clear his throat in an attempt to hide his grin before he could request a non-smoking table.

Of course, they might not have been staring because Heero had uncharacteristically brought a guest with him. Although Duo hadn’t bothered to re-braid his hair, he did somehow manage to make a pair of old jeans and an over-sized corduroy shirt look damn nice.

Once they’d been seated, Heero had watched Duo peruse the menu, taking in all of the photographs of unpronounceable entrées. They’d just ordered their drinks when Duo seems to decide to start investigating his dinner in earnest.

“What’s this one?” Duo asks, pointing to a photo.

Heero leans closer to get a closer look at it.

“That’s sashimi. Raw fish.” He glances up at Duo. “I thought you weren’t the sushi type.”

“Yeah, but... it looks kinda good.”

Heero smiles. “I’ll order it and you can try it, all right?”

Duo glances up quickly. “Oh, no. Don’t order it just because I’m curious.”

“I’m not. It’s my usual.”

Duo looks doubtful.

Hiding a grin, Heero leans away from the table and calls out softly to a waitress who’s just started to clear a table nearby. “Hey, Emiko. What’s my usual?”

Without looking up, the older woman replies, “Asahi Dry, edamame, sashimi, oolong-cha, yaki soba, omomochi, and sometimes nabe.”

Heero finally allows himself to grin over the table at Duo who arches a brow at him.

“Come here often?” the doctor inquires.

Heero doesn’t bother to open his menu. He leans back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest. “No comment.”

“Mm,” Duo muses. “So, what’s, uh, nabe?”

In answer, Heero unfolds his arms and leans across the table to point to a photo on Duo’s menu. “It’s a kind of stew. There’s tofu, squid, fish, and vegetables in a broth.”

Duo regards the corresponding image on the menu. “It doesn’t come with all this other stuff does it?” he inquires, indicating the extra bowls, serving spoons, and hotplate.

Heero nods. “It does. We heat it up ourselves.”

“Right on our table?”

“Yeah.”

Duo grins. “Cool.”

Heero decides to order nabe. He enjoys watching Duo pour over the menu for a few more moments, remembering the first time he’d come here and feeling overwhelmed at all the excellent choices available. It’s not long before Emiko makes a stop at their table with their drinks and asks for their order.

Duo sends Heero a panicked look. “I can’t decide,” he admits with a beseeching gaze.

Heero is torn between laughing and kissing him. “Do you trust me?” he asks, wondering if the husky tone in his voice is as obvious to everyone else as it is to him.

With a very quiet sigh, Duo sets his menu down and gestures to Heero. “Yeah, go for it, man. If you leave it up to me we’ll be here all night.”

Personally, Heero could think of worst ways to spend his evening, but he leaves that thought unvoiced and requests his usual. Including nabe.

_ ** **Wow.** ** _

Duo shakes his head as he climbs into his car and inserts the key in the ignition. He feels a contented sigh slip past his lips as his warm, happy stomach fairly hums with satisfaction. But that’s nothing compared to how he’s feeling after sharing dinner with Heero Yuy. His lips curve into a soft grin as he quickly replays the young man’s quick-witted yet gentle responses, that shy smile, and that intensely focused gaze. The knowledge that Duo had been on the receiving end of Heero’s completely undivided attention – even though it had only been for the duration of one meal – makes him shiver. He’s so keyed up over it that he can almost _feel_ his skin glowing with the rush of perfect chemistry.

And he and Heero really do have very good chemistry.

His grin widens as he turns his car in the direction of home. Today had been a good day. A __very__ good day. He’d spent some time with an amazing person and learned a few words and phrases in Japanese. Hell, he’d even gotten to use chopsticks! Heero had been pleased; Duo could tell. Although, looking back, it might have been nice to pretend ignorance so Heero would have to show him just how to hold them... and if it hadn’t been for Wufei teaching him on their second date...

Duo’s thoughts slam to a halt.

Wufei.

He’d completely _forgotten_ about his boyfriend tonight!

Stunned, Duo almost misses his turn. The smile, the glow, and the rush dissipate in the wake of the heavy, looming presence of guilt.

_How_ could he have forgotten about Wufei? Especially considering how their relationship had grown in leaps and bounds over the last forty-eight hours? __Damn it,__ Duo swears silently. _Am I really that shallow?_

Duo pulls into his parking space and shuts off the car’s engine. But rather than climbing out, he leans his forehead on the steering wheel and closes his eyes.

_I’m seeing Wufei._

He reminds himself.

_I am not seeing Heero._

And for the life of him, he doesn’t understand why he’s having trouble feeling okay with that last fact.

Before he can dwell on it too deeply, he forces himself out of the car and into his building. He jingles his keys as he ascends the stairs and wonders if he should mention his dinner companion to Wufei when he calls him.

Although Duo has always been a proponent of “honesty is the best policy,” he finds himself hesitating to mention having met Heero Yuy. Really, what good would be gained from it? If Wufei ever found out, Duo could just shrug and tell him he’d met the officer at the hospital, which is true... Besides, as wonderful as this new development in his relationship with Wufei is, it’s still very new and fragile.

By the time Duo is shouldering open his door, he’s already decided not to mention his newest acquaintance.

_I am in a relationship with Wufei,_ he reminds himself. Again. _ I **want** this relationship with Wufei. Heero is just a friend._

With a deep breath, Duo picks up the phone, determined to prove not only to himself but to his partner that he _is _committed to making things work.

****Heero hesitates**** in the act of pulling his undershirt over his head when the phone rings. Tingling with hope and anticipation, he traverses the landscape of his apartment and glances at the caller ID. It’s Duo.

He feels his mouth stretch into a welcoming smile. He hadn’t known if he could expect Duo to call him tonight especially since they’d just shared a very nice dinner. But he’s very glad to be surprised like this.

“Hey, angel,” he murmurs into the phone.

“Hey, lover” is Duo’s reply.

Heero doesn’t bother to try to hide the grin on his face and in his voice. “You just get home?”

“Yeah. Walked in the door not ten seconds ago.”

Heero curls up in the corner of his second-hand couch and feels his entire being hum at the thought that Duo is loathe to let their evening end so soon. Heero imagines Duo talking on the phone while he’s toeing off his shoes. The picture is completely endearing. “Your self-restraint amazes me,” Heero intones flatly.

Duo chuckles. “Only my self-restraint?”

“Of course not. I was just listing one example.”

Duo sighs. “You have no idea how great it is for me to come home to the sound of your voice.”

Heero closes his eyes and leans his head back against the cushions. “Oh, I might have an inkling of an idea, angel.”

“Why do you call me that?”

“Angel?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, aren’t you one?”

Duo chuckles again, softly. “I wouldn’t know. When I was a toddler, I was so... um, adventurous shall we say? that my family was constantly comparing me to a demon. And then, when I got older, I sort of grew into this, ah, geek boy.”

Heero snorts. “Geek boy?”

“Oh yeah, you may find it hard to believe now, but there was a time when I wore khakis and polo shirts to school and carried my pocket organizer to every class...”

Allowing the image to paint itself behind his closed eyes, Heero laughs quietly. “From demon spawn to nerd... That doesn’t seem like a typical progression.”

“Oh, yeah. If anything can be said about me, it’s that I’m not typical. That’s for sure.”

“So why did you geek out instead of continuing to cause chaos and mayhem for the general public?”

“Um... well, part of it was my older brother, I think. He got really into athletics and sports and he turned into a real asshole there for a while.”

“Just a while?”

Duo laughs. “Well, no. Sometimes Solo relapses. But I didn’t want to be like him, you know? So I went the opposite direction. Academics and art all the way.”

“So was your family surprised when you decided to go into medicine?”

“Yeah, a little. I guess they figured I’d become an accountant or a computer programmer or something like that. Maybe even a comic book artist. Yeah, I was a complete geek. Totally irredeemable.”

Heero laughs.

“But they got used to the idea. How about you?”

“I consider myself very redeemable.”

Duo snorts. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Well, what did you mean?” Heero replies, grinning.

“What was your reputation growing up? Hellion? Teacher’s pet?”

Heero sighs. “I was... the _American.”_

“What?” Duo laughs.

“That’s what my grandmother used to call me whenever I was being really difficult. Or shameless. Or charming.”

“You? Charming? Whatever, man.”

“No, really,” Heero assures him. “I had a smile that dazzled my victims at five hundred yards. I even have photographic evidence of it around here somewhere.”

“Uh huh,” Duo replies, still doubtful. “So, okay, assuming you’re not trying to snow me here, what happened to Mr. Charm?”

“I guess I... When my grandmother died, I just kind of grew out of it, I guess.”

“I’m sorry, babe.”

“It was a long time ago,” Heero replies quickly, hoping Duo doesn’t hear the emotion in his voice.

“You were close?”

Heero nods and knows his attempt to hide how he really feels from Duo is a futile exercise. “She raised me,” he says simply. “My parents worked sixteen-hour days six days a week to support us and send me to a good school. She was such a constant in my life it... it just would have been nice if she’d been able to see how I turned out.”

“I’m sure she can, baby. And I’m sure she’s very proud of you. I know I am.”

Heero smiles a little shakily. “And you wonder why I call you angel.”

Duo sighs. “Okay, yeah, I see your point. But I should warn you, it might just be a phase.”

Heero shakes his head. “No. I think you were always an angel.”

“Well,” he reluctantly admits, “I can see there’s no changing your mind about it.”

“Nope. I’m a believer.”

“Fanatic is more like it.”

“All I need is eleven more people and we’ll have a new religion.”

“God help me.”

Heero laughs at Duo’s flat reply.

“You know...” Duo says after a moment of companionable silence. “I haven’t touched you tonight.”

Involuntarily, Heero’s blood accelerates through his veins. His skin begins to tingle at every major pulse point. “No,” he agrees quietly. “You haven’t.”

“Do you want me to?”

Heero leans further back into the couch and, eyes closed, confesses, “I can’t imagine a single time when I _won’t_ want you to.”

“Then lay back and relax, lover. I’ve been waiting all day to have you all to myself.”

“I’m all yours,” Heero promises quietly, feeling himself fall into the moment and into the sound of his lover’s voice.

:: Deidokoya is based on one of my favorite restaurants in Saitama-ken, Japan.

* * *

  
** **[Three]** **

****“Déjà vu,”**** Duo muses with a lopsided grin as he once again leans in the open doorway to Bobby’s room, overseeing a card game between the boy and the police officer.

“Doc!”

Duo forces his gaze to meander away, reluctantly ceasing his dedicated study of the way Heero’s muscular body fills out his lived-in uniform. He grins at Bobby and chuckles when he hears the kid tell him:

“I’m on a winning streak! Lookit all these taffies!”

Heero sighs dramatically. “You’re wiping me out, kid.”

Bobby grins. “I’m outta your league, Officer Yuy.”

Duo snickers behind his hand as Heero blinks back at Bobby. He recovers quickly and returns Bobby’s smirk with one of his own. “Well, since you’re the pro, here, I’m just going to take what’s left of my taffy and go.”

Bobby opens his mouth to protest, but Duo smoothly interjects, “It’s getting late, anyway. And besides, your dinner will be here soon.”

Bobby makes a face at the mention of his evening meal. “That’s not food.”

Duo grins. “You’re right. It’s not food. It’s a reason to get better so you can leave and eat real food whenever you want.”

Heero hums in the back of his throat and shares a long, thoughtful look with the frowning patient.

“Well...” Bobby drawls reluctantly, “I _guess_ that makes sense...”

“Yup,” Duo is quick to agree. “So if the food doesn’t scare you into getting better, then nothing will, my man.”

Grinning, Heero stands and replaces his chair in its spot against the wall. He reaches out and shakes Bobby’s hand, thanking him for the game and promising to accomplish an impressive comeback the following day.

In reply, Bobby snorts. “Yeah, okay, Officer Yuy.”

Heero just shakes his head and ruffles the boy’s hair. “Be nice or we’re playing for raisins tomorrow.”

Bobby blinks innocently. “Yes, sir.”

With an affectionate sigh, Heero crosses the room. Still leaning in the doorway, Duo doesn’t realize he’s in the other man’s way; he’s too caught up in watching the easy, unconscious way his body moves beneath that slightly wrinkled uniform. In fact, Duo doesn’t realize he’s staring until Heero meets his look with a warm, intent one of his own an instant before he brushes past the doctor and enters the hall. The brief touch is unsettling, jerking Duo from his daze with a hot rush of adrenaline. He straightens and offers up a grin to the boy in the hospital bed before waving a chipper “good night.”

Feeling not a little shaken from that moment of contact when their clothing had slid against each other, Duo turns away but finds the object of his distraction watching him with a look in his eyes that Duo hesitates to label.

“Hey, Yuy,” Duo hears himself say with much bravado, “what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be out arresting bad guys or something?”

He shrugs, completely unperturbed by Duo’s somewhat confrontational jest. “Yeah. How are you coming on that cure for the common cold?”

Duo pauses then feels a sheepish grin tugging at his mouth. “Touché. But seriously, officer, what are you doing here for the third day in a row? Not stalking my patient are you?” he challenges in a softer tone as they approach the break room.

Heero chuckles silently. “Hardly.”

Duo quirks a brow in inquiry.

The young policeman clears his throat, lowers his voice even further, and informs Duo, “We have a suspect in custody for the hit-and-run. We won’t know for sure until forensics has a chance to compare the evidence but... I thought you might like to know.”

Duo had paused at Heero’s mention of a suspect and now gazes at him intently in the empty hall. Slowly, he says, “Thank you for telling me. I won’t say anything. I appreciate the news, officer.”

“Heero” is the gentle correction.

Duo tilts his head to one side. “Are you going to start calling me ‘Duo,’ then?”

Heero’s grin is lopsided and adorable. “Maybe.”

And there’s something about the young man’s gentle hesitance that pulls the following words out of Duo without his consciousness’s permission: “Am I going to have to bribe you with dinner tonight?”

For an indisputably motionless moment, Duo simply stares at Heero who stares back. And then, just as Duo begins to berate himself for asking Heero out when he __should__ be spending time with Wufei, the moment is broken and Duo’s thoughts are shattered by the slowest, sweetest, most heartfelt smile he’s ever seen from Heero Yuy.

The teasing tone is surprising but not unpleasant: “Undoubtedly.”

Duo forces himself not to think about what he’s just done. He concentrates, instead, on keeping that look of pure, genuine happiness on Heero’s face. He feels his own lips curl in reply. “Well, now that we’ve got that settled...” Duo holds up a hand, gesturing for Heero to wait while he consults his locker.

****“Your turn,”**** Heero tells his companion as he tears another bite off of the Indian flatbread on his plate and drags it through one of the two pots of curry squatting in the center of their table.

Duo quickly licks the masala barbecue sauce off of his fingers before muttering, “Hm. Something I never thought I’d tell anyone...”

Heero doesn’t say anything else, giving Duo the chance to comb back through his memories. But that doesn’t mean the young man doesn’t hold his undivided attention. Duo is a brilliant source of surprises. This restaurant among them. Heero hadn’t even realized there is an Indian restaurant within walking distance of the hospital. The interior of the entire place is draped in bold silks and Hindi tapestries. Some other time, if he comes here alone, Heero might take the time to study the décor. But he’s too intrigued by the show Duo’s thoughts provide to look away for long.

“I don’t know...” Duo muses aloud. “You wishing you’d learned how to fly instead of going to the police academy... I don’t know if I can beat that.”

Heero grins. “You don’t have to, Duo. It’s one for one. You dragged that out of me, so I get to hear one of your secrets.”

“On the second date? My secrets are not so easily obtained, Yuy.”

The teasing look Duo tosses his way makes Heero’s fingers falter in the process of dissecting the lightly toasted naan in front of him. From somewhere, Heero manages to dredge up a light tone. “Surely you can part with something?”

Having ripped a piece from his own naan, Duo dips the fried bread into the pot of spicy, red sauce. “Well...” he drawls, taking his time soaking the naan before bringing it to his mouth and chewing carefully. A smear of the curry sauce clings to the corner of his mouth and Heero watches Duo swiftly lick it away before speaking. “I suppose there is one I could part with.”

Heero remains silent, studying Duo’s expression, watching his graceful hands, waiting for the brief appearance of his tongue.

“When I was in kindergarten, my family moved to a new city. I took it really hard. I didn’t want to go to a new school. It wasn’t that I didn’t like school – quite the opposite. All my friends from our neighborhood were there. But this new place, these new people...” Duo shakes his head. “I was adamant that I absolutely would not go to school.”

He pauses in the tale for a moment, scooping up a portion of the mild, sweet yellow curry sitting closest to Heero’s plate. He takes the opportunity to watch Duo eat and attempts to envision him as a capricious five-year-old. He smiles.

Duo continues, “But my mom, she said to me, ‘Duo, I know going to a new school is really scary. So let me show you something.’” 

Duo wipes his hands off on his napkin before holding his hand out toward Heero, palm up. He gestures for Heero to give him his left hand. Heero does so. His skin tingles as Duo cradles his hand with the palm up. “So she takes my hand,” Duo continues to narrate, “and she kisses the very center of it.” At those words, Duo softly touches the center of Heero’s hand with his fingertips.

“And then she tells me, ‘Now you have a kissing hand, Duo. And every time you feel alone, all you have to do is press your hand to your cheek and you’ll remember that I’m here and so is your dad and you’re never by yourself. Just be careful. Even though the kiss won’t wash or fall off, you can still lose it.’ So she curled my fingers around it to keep it safe and sent me to school.”

As Duo speaks, he curls Heero’s fingers until his left hand is in a loose fist. Heero can only stare and attempt to breathe normally as Duo’s touch overwhelms him. It’s so different and yet so similar to the hand shake they’d shared a few days ago.

Duo smiles shyly and reluctantly withdraws from Heero’s hand. “I spent the whole day with my left hand in a fist so I wouldn’t lose it.”

Heero grins as he takes his own hand back, returning it to its place resting on his thigh, his fingers still curled around the ghostly remains of Duo’s touch.

After a moment, Heero tells him, “That was much better than mine.”

Duo laughs.

Heero’s fist tightens around his Duo-blessed palm and wishes for the ability – for the words – to tell Duo how he feels. In this moment, Duo’s mirth draws him until there are so many thoughts fighting in a tangled knot in his throat that he can barely breathe.

“Well, Heero,” Duo says finally as he swipes the last bit of curry from the nearest pot, “you can make it up to me by telling me more about why you want to fly.”

Feeling completely full with warm food and intimate secrets, Heero leans away from the table, surrendering the last of the food to his lover. “I guess... it’s like a dance every time you take off. There are so many things that have to be perfect – so many things that could go wrong – but after a lot of hard work and experience, when it all comes together it’s... freeing.”

Duo grins. “And do you dance, too?”

He __never__ dances. He tells Duo with a replying smile, “Sometimes.”

Nodding in quiet response, Duo sweeps his gaze over Heero from his messy dark hair down his exposed torso then back up again, as if appraising his dancing abilities. And the look he sends Heero communicates his satisfaction with what he sees. Heero’s lips part at that look, but no words come to him. And then, as if realizing what he’s doing, Duo pulls back and surveys the table.

“Looks like we’re done.”

Heero nods, cursing his inability to speak.

“Ready to walk all this off?”

The corner of Heero’s mouth lifts upward. “It’s going to take more than a stroll back to the hospital parking lot to do that.”

Duo grins. “Yeah, but it’s a start.”

Heero silently agrees. The walk _is_ a start. And if this evening plays through like the previous three, then there will be more – _considerably _more – to follow. He can almost imagine the sight of Duo as passion overwhelms him. Almost. An ache blossoms in him at his inability to confess his thoughts.

Throughout the walk back to the hospital, Heero struggles to find a way to explain how very thankful he is to Duo for calling him, for wanting him, for taking that first nerve-wracking step. He wrestles with the words, trying to find a way to tell him that he’s ready for more, that he wants more, _needs_ more.

But in the end, he curls his fingers around his palm and watches the taillights of Duo’s car fade into the distance with only his unvoiced desires for company.

****“What**** the _hell _is wrong with me!?” Duo hisses as he paces his living room. He’s too furious with himself to be more than a little surprised by the sudden, hot anger. He buries his hands in the top of his braid and curls his fingers tightly around his hair until it pulls painfully at his scalp.

How can he be attracted to Heero when he’s finally connecting with Wufei on a very intimate and honest level?

_And you’re being real honest with him, aren’t you?_

Duo clenches his teeth as his conscience scrapes its claws across his heart. How can he be feeling this way? How can he feel so strongly for Wufei and then find himself inviting another man out to dinner? How can he be in love with Wufei if he willingly shares his secrets with someone else? Duo leans blindly back against the bookcase and tightly wraps his arms around his stomach.

“I can’t believe I told him about the kissing hand...”

Duo shakes his head trying to banish the vision of Heero’s eyes: searching, needing, studying. Duo shivers at the power Heero’s fascination has over him.

“It’s like I’m the only other person in the universe,” he whispers into the room.

Wufei had _never_ looked at him like that.

Feeling the need to scream, Duo snatches the phone off of its stand and punches a few buttons. He waits while the phone rings. And rings. And then...

“This is Quatre. If you want me to call you back, leave a message.”

Duo’s eyes close as the pressure within him builds to an unbearable level. Of course Q isn’t there. He’d mentioned something about a skiing trip with his family a few days ago...

The beep sounds and Duo growls, eyes still closed, “It’s Duo. Call me.” And he presses the disconnect button before he breaks down and screams out his frustration. For a long moment, he stares down at the phone in his hand, his body rigid with tension.

And then, before he can consider what he’s doing out of anger at himself, Duo finds himself utilizing the speed dial once again. And when his lover answers the call, Duo doesn’t bother with greetings or formalities. He needs this. He needs the assurance that this is right and true and Heero Yuy is only a distraction.

He hears his own voice growl, “Are you naked yet?” And doesn’t wait for a response. “We’ve got a long night ahead of us, lover, and your clothes are not invited to the festivities...”

****“Earth to Yuy.**** Come in, Yuy.”

Heero sends his partner a silent glare. “What?” he demands, absolutely positive that he hadn’t missed anything Trowa had just said.

Trowa crosses his arms over his chest and frowns at his partner. “What’s wrong? We caught the guy from the Edison hit-and-run and he’ll be arraigned just as soon as the forensic geeks match up the evidence.” Trowa tilts his head to one side and studies the young man seated across from him. “What does it take to make you happy these days?”

With a frown, Heero crosses his arms as well. “It’s not that I’m unhappy about the arrest...”

“Then what is it?”

Heero shakes his head. “Nothing.” _Everything._ “I’m just a little worried about Duo.”

“Duo?” Trowa parrots in mild confusion.

_Oh, shit. _ Heero hadn’t intended to mention the young man’s name to Trowa. He’d intended to keep the entire situation to himself. But now he’s piqued Trowa’s curiosity. And that’s definitely _not_ a good thing. “A friend of mine. He called last night and something seemed... off but he wouldn’t talk about it.”

“Hm,” Trowa comments neutrally. “Maybe he has to try to sort through it himself first.”

“Maybe,” Heero comments.

Possibly sensing that his partner would like to brood on this for a few minutes in peace, Trowa offers to get both of them a coffee refill. Heero nods absently as Trowa moves off, his mind already replaying the phone call he’d received last night.

Duo had been... intense. There had been an edge to his voice that Heero hadn’t heard before. A dark promise – a desperation – Heero is trying to understand.

_“So, what’s my opposition tonight?” Duo whispers._

_Heero swallows before he is able to reply. “Just a flannel shirt, actually.”_

_“No jeans?”_

_“No.”_

_“No underwear?”_

_“No.”_

_The pause on the other end of the line is predatory. “Good.”_

Heero almost shivers as the hour that had followed comes back to him. Duo had been in complete control this time, directing Heero’s hands and thoughts with relentless intent. And then, just when Heero had been mere seconds away from release, Duo had commanded him to stop.

_“Hands above your head, baby.”_

_“But I’m almost—”_

_“Hands above your head. Now.”_

_Heero complies, unable to defy that voice._

_“Do you really think I’ll let this end so quickly? The last three nights have been great, lover, but I think it’s time you understand that I want more. A lot more.”_

_“H-how much more?” Heero somehow manages to pant out._

_“Everything.”_

_Heero shivers._

_“And we’re not stopping tonight until I get it. You’re going to scream for me, baby. And you’re going to love it.”_

_“I... Wh-what else?”_

_“Just wait, lover. Just wait. We’ve only just started and by the time I let you come for me, you’re going to be raw.”_

_“Ahh...”_

Heero shifts in his seat, unable to recall the night before with feeling some... effects. It had been, without a doubt, the single most intense sexual experience Heero had ever known. And it had shown him a completely different aspect of himself... and of Duo.

He can’t help but wonder what could have set his lover off like that. Could it be...? Had it been...?

_“How badly do you want me, lover?”_

_“Duo! Please!”_

_“That’s not good enough, baby. You’re going to have to try harder if you want me to continue.”_

Heero can barely recall his own replies he’d been so lost to his own body’s needs. But he can remember Duo’s voice. Whispering. Always whispering. As if he’d been afraid to raise his voice. As if raising his voice would have let loose the chained beast within him. Heero attempts to disguise his shiver with a heavy sigh.

_“How badly do you want me? How badly?”_

_Bad,_Heero admits in silence. Bad enough to beg, which he’s relatively sure he had done much of last night. Bad enough to offer his body and soul to Duo without hesitation. But it hadn’t been enough.

Heero smoothes the hand Duo had kissed with his fingertips over his lips and closes his eyes. Perhaps he does know what would be enough...

He jots down a note about taking his lunch break and tosses it on Trowa’s desk before grabbing his jacket and stalking out of the station. He needs to see Duo. Needs to talk to him. Needs to tell him all of the things he hasn’t. Somehow, he’ll find a way to grasp those frantic words and say them. He will.

He has to.

The drive to the hospital passes in a blur. He doesn’t even clearly recall his ride in the elevator. One moment, he’s sliding his jacket on in the station and the next he’s leaning against the nurses’ station on Duo’s floor, his weight braced on both his hands where they grasp the edge of the counter being told Duo isn’t here today. It’s his day off.

_Shit._

For a moment, he doesn’t move, doesn’t think. He hadn’t anticipated this contingency.

“Would you like to leave a message for him when he comes in tomorrow?” the nurse – Dolores – asks carefully.

Heero forces himself to relax. “No,” he manages in a gruff voice. “Thank you, but no.” He even attempts a small smile which appears to accomplish the task of putting Dolores at ease. He asks her to let Bobby know he won’t be able to continue their card game today but he’ll be by again tomorrow. And then he escapes.

As soon as the elevator doors close, Heero leans against the back wall and massages his temples. He’d expected to feel relieved that Duo hadn’t been there, but instead, he’s angry. He’d _wanted _to tell him. He’d needed to hear the words, too.

But it looks like he’ll have to wait.

He doesn’t want to. He suspects that he won’t be able to explain himself as successfully if this tension is allowed to build in him. He needs to get this out __now.__

The doors roll apart and Heero starts across the hospital lobby. He’s almost to the front entrance when something in the gift shop window catches his gaze. Heero stops instantly and stares at it, an idea coming to him and making him almost smile.

****Duo wanders**** through the university library, searching for a familiar head of black hair pulled back in a short ponytail. He doesn’t bother with the more popular desks beside the windows or the commons areas with plush armchairs and coffee tables. He heads for the study rooms and finds the object of his search in the third room from the left. He pauses for a moment to simply watch his boyfriend pour his attention over a pile of very boring-looking tomes. Six months ago, he never would have guessed Wufei would allow him to witness the passionate man beneath the calm, controlled exterior. How did things change so drastically in a handful of days when they’d made almost no progress in all those months? Duo sighs and lifts his hand. After a brief hesitation, he raps his knuckles on the door.

Wufei glances up with a blank expression – one that Duo knows is disguising his irritation – before realizing exactly who is grinning at him from the other side of the window in the door. Duo feels his own smile falter when Wufei hesitates to greet him warmly. Then, carefully, Wufei nods, inviting Duo to enter. Feeling unsettled at this cool display, Duo slips into the room.

Nervously, he greets, “Hey, Wufei. How’s it going, man?”

“I am fine. How have you been, Duo?”

Duo blinks at the calm, formal tone of his voice. So different from what he’d been expecting. So different from last night... Duo almost winces. He’d been so angry last night. He hadn’t really thought before he’d acted. He hopes he hasn’t royally screwed things up. “Well, I’m better than I was last night,” he attempts to begin.

Wufei either doesn’t sense the heavy pause or attempts to distract Duo from it. He says, “What happened last night?”

Duo laughs. “That’s the big question, isn’t it?” He kind of hopes Wufei will help him out here – meet him halfway – but the young man simply looks at him. And as Duo stares into those dark eyes, he wonders how he could have though those eyes beautiful after having met Heero Yuy. Duo clears his throat. “Um, look I...” He pauses, fumbling, before finally sighing and meeting Wufei’s gaze in earnest. “What’s the deal with us, babe? I’m really confused and I just need to know where we’re going with this.”

Wufei blinks at him before looking away. A full minute seems to pass as Duo watches Wufei consider several responses. Finally, Wufei tells him, “I am sorry, Duo. I have been unclear. I...” Wufei finally redirects his gaze back to Duo and tells him, “I have been confused. Since coming to this university, I have been completely alone and then I met you and you were so honest and kind...”

Duo tenses in his seat. He takes in the apologetic look in Wufei’s eyes and wishes he were anywhere else right now. He wishes he were listening to Heero’s voice, gazing into Heero’s eyes...

“I did not mean to make you think that I... You are an exceptional, honorable man, Duo Maxwell, but I cannot become involved with you.”

Duo opens his mouth then closes it and swallows back the foreshocks of an incredible, shocking pain. “You... you’re not attracted to me?”

“I did not say that. You are very attractive. In fact, you remind me of my very best friend and I think that is why I allowed you to believe we were involved because...”

“Because it’s not me you really wanted to be with,” Duo concludes in an aching whisper.

The long pause that follows underscores the truth of that statement. But if Wufei had never been interested in him like that, then...

“What about the other night?” Duo whispers. “What about my calls?”

Wufei frowns faintly with confusion. “Duo, I do not know what you mean. The other night? I have not spoken to you in several days.”

The pain is immediate and nearly debilitating. “Wh-what?” Duo gasps. “Why would you...?” His throat closes up and he stares at the young man he’d trusted with his heart only to be thanked with lies. “You know what I’m talking about,” Duo chokes out.

“I am sorry but I do not.”

Frustrated and confused, Duo erupts from his chair and turns in a tight circle before confronting Wufei again. “But you... I... we...”

Gently, Wufei replies, “I would be honored if you will continue to be my friend, Duo, but I understand if I have hurt you too greatly for that to be an option.” With that, Wufei stands and bows formally. “I am proud to have called you my friend.”

Duo stares at him, disbelieving. And then the tremors of pain intensify as the weight of the moment crashes into him. Duo doesn’t bother to try to reply. He does the only thing he can do.

He leaves.

****Heero ignores**** the glances Trowa sends his way. He knows that his mood had been greatly improved since coming back from lunch but Trowa had – thankfully – not commented on the sudden change.

“Plans tonight?” Trowa asks neutrally as he holds open the station’s door for Heero.

“Not sure,” Heero admits as he crosses the threshold. “You?” he asks as they descend the steps.

Trowa shrugs and opens his mouth to reply... but doesn’t. His gaze fixes on some point past Heero. His stare flickers back to Heero before he nods for Heero to follow his gaze.

Heero does so and almost trips down the stairs.

“Duo?” Trowa summarizes.

Wordlessly Heero nods. The figure leaning heavily against the front bumper of his jeep is none other than Duo Maxwell. For an instant, Heero wonders if Duo has received his message, but then he remembers his instructions to the shop employee. It will not be delivered until tomorrow. Duo must be here for some other reason. And that’s when he notices the tension in the doctor’s slender body. Instantly, he knows something has gone wrong.

“See you later,” Heero tells Trowa over his shoulder without looking away from the man waiting for him with an aura of quiet desperation. Heero doesn’t see the knowing gleam in Trowa’s eyes. He looks only at Duo who makes no sign of sensing his approach. Still several feet away from the young man, Heero softly says his name.

There is no reply.

Moving slowly, he closes the distance between them until he can place a hand on Duo’s shoulder and lean down to see his face. And what Heero sees breaks his heart.

Duo is lost.

“Come on, Duo,” Heero murmurs, gently maneuvering the young man until he has him tucked into the passenger seat of the jeep. Heero doesn’t try to get him to talk. He simply drives.

The ride to Heero’s apartment is passed in silence as is the short journey to his front door. Heero guides Duo into the living room and settles him on the couch.

“Duo?” Heero crouches down in front of him, takes his hands and inquires softly but firmly, “Would you like something to drink? Have you eaten yet?”

Duo’s lashes flutter and his gaze focuses on Heero’s face for the first time since the police station. “I’m... sorry...” he begins in a voice too thin to be a whisper.

Heero lifts his fingers and holds them above Duo’s mouth to stop his apology. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.” Heero watches Duo’s throat work with emotion. “What happened?” he asks softly.

Duo stares at him for a moment in painful silence.

Slowly, Heero reaches for Duo’s hands again, hoping to give him something tangible to concentrate on. Duo’s anguish is hurting Heero and his actions are guided by the compulsion to help him. “Tell me what you need me to do, Duo. Tell me what you want.”

A soft, hiccup of breath escapes Duo and his eyes close. He pulls his hands back but instead of allowing Heero’s grasp to slide away, he turns his hands and grips the other man’s wrists, drawing him closer. In an instant, Heero finds himself straddling Duo’s lap with the other man’s face pressed against his chest.

Heero wraps his arms around Duo’s shoulders and holds him tightly against him. And feels complete for the first time in his entire life. Carefully, he runs a hand over Duo’s braid in calming motions and listens to the sound of Duo not crying. The silence tears at him more painfully than sobs would and he finds himself rocking Duo in his embrace as much to soothe him as to soothe himself. He can’t think of words to comfort him, so he simply touches his lips to Duo’s hair and holds him.

Gradually, the atmosphere in the room begins to shift as Duo collects his composure. “I’m sorry,” he whispers again. “I shouldn’t have just shown up like that—”

“It’s okay, Duo,” Heero whispers back. “I’m glad you did.”

“I just didn’t know what to do, what to think... I still don’t know.”

Heero smooths his palm down Duo’s back.

“We were getting so close recently!” he suddenly hisses.

Heero opens his mouth to assure him that that hasn’t changed. That it’s only Heero’s inability to express how he feels that’s the only obstacle. But Duo continues.

“I never knew... The passion, the trust... I never knew it could be like that.” Duo buries his face even further in Heero’s shirt. “And now...”

“And now?” Heero prompts, continuing the back rub.

Duo shakes his head and sighs. Heero can feel him leaning completely into him, trusting. On a wavering breath, he wonders softly, “Why couldn’t I have met you first, Heero?”

Heero frowns. He opens him mouth to tell Duo that he _had _met Heero first but is, again, interrupted.

“He broke it off. Six months. I thought we were together for six months but we weren’t. He just let me think it because I reminded him of the person he _really_ wanted to be with.”

As Duo’s words sink in, a silence follows in their wake. Heero can feel the warmth of his body shutting off, his systems shutting down, his muscles freezing.

Duo fists the material of Heero’s shirt in his fingers and mumbles on, “I just don’t understand. On the phone we... I...” Duo sighs. “It was like I was talking to a completely different person, Heero. He was perfect.”

“Perfect,” Heero murmurs, completely numb.

Duo almost laughs out loud and Heero can feel the hot puffs of his breaths though his clothing. “Yeah. Perfect. I must have been dreaming it, right? Hallucinating. I should have taped those phone calls then at least I’d know I wasn’t crazy.”

“You’re... you’re not crazy, Duo. You’re...”

“Pathetic?”

“No!” Heero whispers fiercely. “No... I’m...” _I’m the one who’s pathetic,_ Heero finishes silently. _I’m the one who actually believed you wanted me. But you didn’t. You didn’t._

“A good friend,” Duo concludes for him, untwisting his fingers from Heero’s shirt to return the embrace in earnest.

_A friend..._ Heero echoes but hears: _A mistake..._And feels the gravity holding his heart together finally give out. Or give in. He’s not sure. Is that pain the result of a heart exploding into a supernova or imploding into a black hole? Either way...

Heero closes his eyes and tries to bury the ache in his soul.

Either way... there’s one less star in the night sky.

:: “The Kissing Hand” is an actual children’s storybook by Audrey Penn, Ruth E. Harper, and Nancy M. Leak

* * *

** **  
** ** ** **[Four]** **

****Duo stops**** in his tracks as a bright twinkle reflects back to him. He blinks... and then a slow smile curves his lips.

“Hey, Bobby. Whatcha got there?”

The boy starts to lower his arm at the interruption, but pauses. Seeing who his visitor is, he grins and lifts the contraption aloft again. “It’s a mobile. We were making them in school a while ago...”

Duo crosses the remaining distance to the bed and regards the spinning jumble of tin foil stars. “That’s cool, man. You want help hanging it up?”

Bobby shifts against his pillow, fidgeting. “I was kinda hoping...” He trails off before grinning up at Duo again. “Yeah. Let’s hang it up.”

It takes the two of them a moment to decide where it should go. Then Duo drags the visitor’s chair over to the patch of floor below the designated spot. Bobby watches as the doctor climbs up on the chair, mobile in hand, and hooks the twisted paperclip around one of the ceiling tile supports. Now secured, the mobile spins gently in front of the window, reflecting the afternoon light around the room.

Duo glances over his shoulder to see a satisfied but sad smile on Bobby’s face.

“What’s wrong, man? It’s perfect. Besides, now you can see the stars from your bed. And in this city, believe me, that’s really something.”

Bobby slowly looks away from the rotating stars and shrugs. “I, um... I was just kinda worried about Heero– er, Officer Yuy. He said he’d come visit me today...”

Duo nods sympathetically. “I’m sure he’s all right. Just busy fighting crime and all that...”

“But...” Bobby’s fingers clutch at the blanket draped across his lap. “What if he got hurt or...”

Without thinking, Duo offers, “How about I call him at work and check for you?”

Bobby smiles. “Thanks, Doc.”

“No problem, dude. So, how’s your back feeling?”

Ten minutes later, Duo leans against the nurse’s station and reaches for the telephone. He knows he shouldn’t have told Bobby he’d call Heero – he knows he’ll just be bothering him in the middle of something important – but the truth is that Duo would like to talk to Heero anyway.

_I never thanked him for everything he did for me last night..._

For an instant, he’d had doubts about taking his broken heart to Heero. Although Quatre might be rather crude at times, he __is__ Duo’s best friend. And he’d been through the entire Wufei Saga with Duo so he would have been better able to understand Duo’s confusion. But Quatre hadn’t been available.

Duo allows his eyes to slide briefly closed as he remembers the feel of being in Heero’s arms. It had been like being wrapped up in a soft quilt, like breathing in a sweet dream, like floating on the edge of consciousness in a warm bed. It had been... perfect.

With a slight shake of his head, Duo picks up the receiver.

_At least he knows I’m not seeing anyone right now..._

A slight smile tugs at his mouth as he punches in the number for Heero’s precinct and waits for the operator to pick up. Duo cradles the phone to his ear and turns slightly away from Dolores in order to have a bit more privacy with his call. He tilts his head to one side in curiosity as a small, gray, stuffed raccoon returns his gaze. Duo takes note of the card gently tucked under the little guy’s arm and wonders who the lucky patient is...

And, with a start, realizes the police station operator is speaking to him. He makes his request and drums his fingers against the counter, still staring at the fluffy toy, as his call is transferred.

“Officer Barton.”

“Ah, hello. I’m calling for Officer Yuy.”

“He’s not in today,” the mellow voice replies. “I’m his partner, Trowa Barton. Is there something I can help you with?”

“Um, no. I’m afraid not.”

“Hm. Well, I’ll leave a message for him that you called. Your name?”

“Duo Maxwell.”

There is a slight pause.

“Duo?”

Duo frowns. “Yes?”

Another soft hesitation. “Why don’t you try him at home?”

_At home? _ “I don’t have his number. Really, it’s all right, officer. I don’t want to bother him.”

Trowa ignores this. “Do you have a pen and paper handy?”

Duo makes a grab for a pad of Post-Its and a pen. “Yeah.”

“441-2558.”

“What–?”

“Call him, Duo.”

“O-okay.”

Brow furrowed with confusion, Duo listens to the dial tone for a moment before gently replacing the receiver in its cradle. He shakes his head and carefully pries the yellow square of paper away from the pad.

_Weird..._

He glances up at the twinkling, black eyes of the raccoon, and wonders why Trowa had given him Heero’s unlisted number. But the raccoon doesn’t have an answer to that, either.

“Ah, I see you two have finally met,” Dolores muses playfully.

Duo directs his attention toward her and grins. “Not _another_ blind date, Dolores! _Honestly...”_

She laughs. “Give me a little more credit,” she replies. “I’d at least pick one who could _talk.”_

He chuckles. “So who’s the rascal for, anyway?”

An amused grin causes a dimple to appear in one of her cheeks. “You, of course.”

Pause. “What?”

“The gift shop brought it up about an hour ago.”

Duo stares at the stuffed animal for a long moment, not comprehending...

But then...

_God damn you, Wufei._

“Oh,” he says flatly, realizing Dolores is waiting for his reaction.

She frowns as his sudden lack of enthusiasm. “Duo...?”

He forces a grin and makes a production out of replacing the phone, Post-It pad, and pen. “Well, no time to get acquainted with my new friend. You’ll keep him company for me, won’t you?”

“Him?” Dolores asks, with a brow arched.

Duo snorts. “Oh, yeah. _Trust_ me. That’s definitely a ‘him.’”

****Heero Yuy is**** not perfect. Has never been. Never will be. He has made mistakes. Ignored his instincts. Taken people and things for granted. He is, after all, only human.

And never before has this been so aptly demonstrated to him.

Towel wrapped around his waist and skin still damp from his shower, Heero leans back against the cooling window pane. He rests his hips on the sturdy sill and curls his fingers around the slight ledge on either side of him. He allows his body to relax against the glass as it had done a few nights ago.

It’s difficult to believe so much could change over the course of a few short days. It’s difficult to believe that he had managed to fall in love, meet a good friend, find blissful happiness, only to feel so numb with the ache of losing it all now...

But he doesn’t want to think about that. He pushes away the shock and pain – just as he had done the night before. He doesn’t want the truth right now. He wants the memories.

His head falls back. His eyes close.

_“Hey, babe.”_

Heero almost smiles at the memory of that greeting. Clearly recalls his near-comical disbelief that anyone would _dare_ to call him “babe.”

_“I... know it’s late. But I, ah... I’ve been thinking lately. You know. About, well, um, us... and I... I...”_

It had been the “us” that had decided it for him. The caller had been no mere acquaintance feeling daringly suicidal. Heero remembers thinking that this young man had the wrong number. Remembers taking a breath to inform him of that fact...

And then everything had spiraled out of his control.

He’d never felt more alive in his adult life.

Heero draws a deep breath, savoring the feeling of flight, of falling in love.

The last time the world had been a place of laughter and compassion he’d been a young boy grinning roguishly up at his grandmother. She’d tried to admonish him for his antics and disarming smiles, but the effect had always been ruined by her replying grin and soft chuckles. Yes, Heero Yuy remembers a time when he’d been happy. Only now does he realize how much he’s missed that feeling.

Reluctantly, he rolls his head to the side and looks over at the photograph he’d propped up on the mantle mere hours after he’d shared his memories of his grandmother with Duo. He’d been unable to sleep after they’d hung up and midnight had found him struggling with various boxes in the back of his closet. But he’d found the image he’d been looking for.

His eight-year-old self is grinning broadly with eyes a-sparkle. He clutches his grandmother’s hand in both of his own as he tries to distract her from the violent grass stains on his best pair of slacks. The finger she’d been shaking at him still hovers above his forehead, but her expression is soft. She’s smiling.

That had been the summer before she’d died.

And Heero may not be perfect, but he still remembers.

But memories still leave him as they find him: alone.

He rolls his head against the glass and looks up at the ceiling. What he wouldn’t give to be a child again. _Happy_ again...

Heero suddenly pauses at this thought. He frowns as he realizes that he __has__ been happy. Duo’s companionship and trust had worked their magic on him, helping him to smile again. Showing him that he _could_ smile again. That he could feel content and safe and inspired and–

_And why am I still here, waiting for Duo to call me and tell me he never wants to see me again? Why am I waiting for his anger and disappointment?_

They are valid questions in the light of one simple truth: Heero Yuy has only been truly happy twice in his life. He will never be able to spend another day with his grandmother. He will never be that little boy again. But Duo is still here. Still _alive._

_Why am I not fighting for this?_

Heero’s fingers tighten around the sill as he lowers his gaze. His dark eyes blink down at the few scattered items on his coffee table: an old convenience store receipt with a phone number scribbled on it and a printout detailing the clean driving record and current address of one Duo Maxwell.

He’d had a happy childhood, but in the wake of his grandmother’s death – in his grief – he’d forgotten.

This is his second chance; he doesn’t want to forget again.

Suddenly unable to simply sit around and wait for Duo to call, Heero scoops up the phone and dials the number for the nurses’ station on Duo’s floor at the hospital. A fraction of his tension disappears when a familiar voice answers.

“Hello, Dolores,” he says following the polite greeting. “It’s Heero Yuy–”

He gets no further before she informs him – sadly – that Duo had already gone home.

“That’s all right,” Heero replies calmly. He leans his hip against the couch and settles in as his hasty plan begins to take shape. “I was calling to talk to you, actually.”

Surprise.

“You’ve worked with Duo for how long?”

A note of pride enters her voice.

“Two and half years? So... if a guy had to come up with a great apology to Duo, you’d be able to give him some suggestions, right?”

She laughs. Then replies gamely with a question of her own.

Heero reaches for a few of the other items on the coffee table and, balancing them on his lap, responds, “Yes, I have a pen and paper handy...”

****Duo glares**** at the stuffed raccoon perched arrogantly on his coffee table. Damn, Dolores, anyway, he thinks almost viciously. He’d been hoping to duck out of the hospital before she’d made him take the damn thing home with him. Actually, he should have just thrown the card out and given to toy away. Maybe he still will. But he’s not ready to stop being angry yet. And, in place of Wufei, his pathetic attempt at reconciliation will receive the brunt of Duo’s hostility.

He doesn’t have to read the note to guess what it must say. No doubt it’s another apology. Another plea for friendship. As if Wufei deserves a second chance after using Duo the way he had.

But that’s not the worst scenario Duo can think up. What if that note communicates Wufei’s deep regret? What if he’s realized he does want to work things out with Duo? What if he uses all of the right words in all of the right ways in an attempt to reconcile and start again?

And Duo does want to start again.

But he wants to start again with _Heero._

The sound of rapid knocking on his apartment door pulls Duo from his vicious staring contest. He strides over to the entrance and yanks it open. Quatre brushes past him without a single word in greeting. Only once he’s made himself comfortable in Duo’s papasan chair, does he speak.

“Would you mind telling me why I’m here at your apartment while my toothbrush is still packed away in my over-night bag?”

Duo grits his teeth and smiles at Quatre. It is not a friendly expression.

Sensing this, Quatre sits up and his flippant air disappears. “What’s happened?”

A sound that’s almost a laugh erupts from Duo. “Since I last spoke to you? A hell of a lot.” Duo lifts his hand and starts counting off the events in sequential order. “First, I have incredible phone sex with Wufei, then I meet this guy named Heero who makes me forget Wufei even exists, after that Wufei tells me about his childhood, then I ask Heero out, then more incredible phone sex...” Having run out of fingers on that hand, Duo switches to the other. “Then Wufei breaks up with me because I’m not the person he really wants to be with – that I’m just a handy replacement for his true love, so I go to Heero and bitch out Wufei, _then_ Wufei has the _gall _to send me _that _at work today.”

Quatre’s brows arch as he follows Duo’s gesture to the raccoon sitting between them. “You’ve had a busy week. At least you got laid... kind of...”

“Quatre...”

“Sorry. Sorry. So what’s the card say?”

Duo stares at him in disbelief. “You think I want to read that _now? _ I don’t _care_ if Wufei thinks he’s made a mistake. It’s too late. It was too late the minute I met Heero.”

“This Heero have a last name? Occupation? Credit history?”

Duo answers succinctly, “Yuy. Police officer. And this __is__ the land of eternally indebted is it not?”

Quatre nods once and leans forward to pluck the card from the grasp of the stuffed animal. “Well, _I _would like to know what Wufei sounds like when he’s groveling, so if you don’t mind...?” He waves the card in the air.

With a careless wave of his hand, Duo invites his best friend to read it. “Go for it. Just don’t make me deal with it tonight. You want a glass of wine?” he inquires, turning away as Quatre finishes prying the envelope open.

“Yeah, sure” is the distracted reply.

Duo storms into the kitchen, his anger flowing freely after being tapped in order to relate The List to Quatre. He pulls down two tumblers from the cupboard and yanks a bottle of red wine from beneath the counter. He takes his frustrations out on the wrapper, then the kitchen utensil drawer, then the cork. He splashes generous servings into each glass before navigating his way back to the living room. Duo sets Quatre’s glass down on the coffee table. Only then does he realize how still... and pale... and startled his friend looks.

Glad that he hadn’t read the note himself, Duo consoles, “Just forget about it, Q. Here, have some wine and–”

“Duo...” Quatre softly protests as he scans the card for the umpteenth time in the last five minutes. “You need to read this...”

“No, I do not.” His expression brightens and he snatches the card from Quatre’s numb fingers. “I’ve got a better idea.”

Quatre struggles out of the chair as Duo disappears into the kitchen. He gasps in horror when he finds Duo reaching for one of the dials on the gas stove. He leaps forward and snatches the card back.

Frowning, Duo stops trying to light the finicky burner and grumbles. “Jesus, Q. You want him that bad, you can _have_ him.”

“No, Duo, you don’t understand. You _have to_ read this!”

Duo shakes his head in incredulous irritation. “I don’t _have to_ do anything, Quatre.”

“I’m your best friend, Duo Maxwell, and so help me God, you may not do anything else tonight but you __will__ listen to me!” And with that, Quatre opens the card and begins to read: _“Angel...”_

Duo snorts. “Yeah, that’s from Wufei, all right.” He brushes past Quatre to collect his glass of wine and take a healthy gulp.

_“I never would have expected my salvation to come in the form of a phone call. I hadn’t even realized I was in need of saving. But I am. And you’ve reached into my life and made every day worth waking up for.”_

Duo holds up his hand. “Just stop right there, Quatre. I don’t want to hear anymore–”

Quatre ignores him. _“I want you in my life, Duo. I know you’re concerned that I’m not ready for more than what we have, but I am. I really want to try for more.”_

“So help me, Quatre Reberba Winner, shut the _hell up_ or I’m _never _speaking to you again!”

_“I’m falling in love with you, angel.”_

Incensed, Duo stomps over to his front door and throws it open. He does __not__ want to be hearing this. He _can’t_ be hearing this... “Get out.”

_“Will you catch me?_

_“Yours completely...” _ Quatre looks up at his friend’s thunderous expression before concluding: _“Heero.”_

For a long minute, stunned silence is the only presence in motion within the apartment. Then Duo blinks, draws in a shaky breath, and says, “What?”

Quatre holds out the card. “Wufei didn’t write it. Heero did.”

Slowly, Duo closes the door and wanders over to his friend who relinquishes the card when Duo soundlessly raises his hand for it. The card trembles in his fingers. Duo attempts to sort through the tangle of thoughts howling through his mind.

“But...” he hears himself say, “I’ve never called Heero before...” His voice trails away as something he’d said not twenty-four hours ago echoes back to him:

_“On the phone... It was like I was talking to a completely different person, Heero.”_

Duo closes his eyes as he remembers the warm looks Heero had gifted him with. Recalls the intimate conversations over dinner...

“Are you sure?” Quatre asks softly in reply.

For a moment, Duo simply looks up at Quatre, uncomprehending. “But I’ve been calling Wufei’s number... I programmed it right into the phone...”

“Come on, Duo,” Quatre invites, gently pulling Duo toward the phone base. “Let’s check your numbers.”

Duo shakes his head. “It’s not possible, Quatre. Even if I had punched in the wrong... What are the odds I’d call Heero?” Duo doesn’t have the presence of mind to glare at Quatre for navigating his phone’s complex programming in mere moments. He’s too busy trying to sort everything out in his head.

__Someone__ had called him ‘Angel’ over the phone.

Heero had used that endearment to address him.

Heero’s note had also mentioned Duo phoning him.

And Wufei had not heard from Duo all week...

“Here! Wait... This isn’t Wufei’s number.”

Quatre’s voice shakes Duo from his stupor. He leans over his friend’s shoulder and reads the display:

441-2558

That is __definitely__ not Wufei’s number.

Suddenly remembering the phone number still riding around in his pocket on a yellow Post-It note, Duo pulls it out with shaking fingers and carefully unfolds it. He holds it up to the phone’s small screen and almost gasps.

They’re the same.

_Jesus... I’ve been calling Heero..._

“Why didn’t he say something to you?” Quatre demands. “Is he some kind of worthless pervy loser or something–”

“No!” Duo nearly shouts, startling Quatre. “No, he’s not. He’s quiet and reserved and he doesn’t smile enough and... and he wouldn’t play a joke like this on someone. He wouldn’t. He’s too...”

“Shy?” Quatre supplies questioningly.

At the sound of that word, Duo’s eyes close. “Oh my God... I just told him about Wufei breaking up with me... about how we’d been getting so close over the phone and... Oh, __shit.__”

“Duo?”

Opening his eyes, Duo starts a frantic search for his car keys and cell phone. He tells Quatre, “What would _you_ think if you fell in love with someone who had been calling you religiously all week only to find out _you_ weren’t the person they thought they were calling? How would you feel, Quatre?”

Duo’s impassioned words pull a heartfelt reply from the other young man. “Devastated,” he admits softly.

“I’ve got to go over there.”

Quatre blinks. “Right now?”

He finally locates his keys in his own pocket and his cell phone between the couch cushions. “No time like the present...”

“But... but... wearing _that? _ And smelling like cheap hospital cleaning supplies?” Quatre quirks a brow and follows Duo to the front door. “Are you trying to get him back or test his gag reflex?”

Standing poised to flee in the open doorway, Duo hesitates. Reluctantly, he admits, “Point...”

Taking advantage of his friend moment of doubt, Quatre herds him back into the apartment, wrinkling his nose as the action puts him most decidedly downwind. “Go. Shower. Dress.”

“Okay! Okay!”

“And don’t forget to brush your teeth!” Quatre hollers after him.

The slam of the bathroom door is Duo’s eloquent reply.

Once he hears the water come on, Quatre settles back in his chair with his glass of wine and begins to formulate a strategy that will help Duo recover the affections of one mysterious and as yet un-Quatre-approved Heero Yuy.

****Heero pauses**** in the silent hall and studies the innocuous door before him. He forces himself to take a deep, fortifying breath. He attempts to keep himself from wringing the stems of the collection of smallish sunflowers in his hands.

Sunflowers.

Somehow, they fit Duo’s personality. Still, it had taken him over an hour to track down a florist that had them at this time of year. He just hopes Dolores had been right about Duo’s fondness for them. Heero’s eyes narrow into a look of determination. Still, if finding Duo a bouquet of out-of-season flowers will help him show Duo how he feels – if this could __possibly__ influence Duo’s inclination to pursue a relationship with him favorably – then he’d willingly and gladly do it every day for the rest of his life.

Deliberately, he raises a trembling hand and raps his knuckles on the door. He winces as the sound seems to be too soft and is swallowed up by the building around him. He wonders if perhaps he should knock again – louder this time – when the door swings open.

Heero’s rehearsed greeting dies in his throat when he finds himself facing a stranger. The blond young man on the other side of the threshold tilts his head to one side before grinning widely. Very quietly, he asks, “Are you Heero?”

He blinks twice before nodding. Opening his mouth to ask who this man is and why he’s answering the door to Duo’s apartment, he is interrupted by Duo’s voice coming from the depths of the rooms.

“Hey, Q. Who is it?”

Q holds up a finger to his lips, indicating that Heero should be silent. He turns slightly toward the sound of Duo’s voice and calls back without taking his eyes from Heero, “The girl scouts. You want a box of those Samoa things?”

“Quatre! How can you think of food right now?!”

Grinning broadly with eyes twinkling, Quatre replies, “And a box of Thin Mints?”

“Damn it... Yeah, okay.”

Silently, Quatre waves Heero into the apartment and shuts the door. Still gesturing for Heero’s silence, Quatre steps away from him to stand in the middle of the living room. “Hey, why don’t you take these with you when you go over to Heero’s?”

“Um, yeah. I’d thought of that... Although I think it’s going to take more than a couple boxes of cookies...”

“But they’re not just cookies,” Quatre corrects, amused. “They’re the infamous _girl scout_ cookies.”

Duo sighs loudly. “Dude, are you even taking me seriously?”

In response, Quatre’s voice changes subtly, expressing mild concern. “Have you thought about what you’re going to say to him?”

Quatre glances in Heero’s direction, eyes twinkling. Heero can almost read the “You can thank me later” in his expression.

There’s a moment of anxious silence.

“You don’t want to get over there and then wait and see what comes out of that mouth of yours,” Quatre advises shrewdly. “Remember that time at your parents’ twenty-fifth wedding anniversary when you told everyone that story about–”

“Yes, Quatre, I remember!”

Quatre grins broadly. “So what are you going to say to him?”

From one of the rooms leading off from the living room, Duo sighs. “Well, first of all, that I’m not angry at him.”

“Okay,” Quatre encourages with forced nonchalance. “And?”

“And... And like I’m going to tell you, man. This isn’t going to become another one of your bar stories.”

Heero watches as Quatre has to bite back a laugh. Eyes shining with wicked glee, he swears, “I promise it will never leave this room, Duo. And, seriously, you have to practice. Remember that time in high school when you left your speech final at home and decided to just wing it?”

Duo growls softly. “Argh. Fine.”

Quatre grins broadly. “So, okay. I’ll be Heero.”

Still standing in the entryway, Heero lifts a brow.

Duo laughs. “You sure don’t sound like him!”

Quatre clears his throat and lowers his voice, repeating, “I’ll be Heero.”

Laughing even harder, Duo calls back, “Are you serious about _anything?”_

The blond man grins and replies, “Duo! What are you doing here on my doorstep?”

Duo takes a moment, presumably, to compose himself. The sudden, tense quiet of the apartment is augmented by Duo’s soft, unsure response to Quatre’s lead-in.

“Um... Hi, Heero.” Pause. “Look, I... ah... Oh, crap. You’re right. I suck at this. How should I start?”

Replying in his normal voice, Quatre asks, “What do you want to say?”

“Well... I want to apologize for hurting him like I did last night. It was completely unintentional since it never occurred to me I’d been calling him up every night this week and... you know...”

“Uh huh,” Quatre encourages. “And are you sorry about that, too?”

“What?”

“Calling him.”

“Hell, no! I might not have programmed in Wufei’s number but that was _not _a mistake. Heero’s... he’s... he’s perfect, Quatre. And if he’s willing to forgive me...”

Quietly, Quatre gathers up his jacket and removes his car keys from one of the pockets. “What, Duo? If he can forgive you, then what?”

“Then...”

Heero feels his tension suddenly increase in anticipation and anxiety.

“All I want,” Duo continues after a moment of aching silence, “is one chance. I couldn’t... let myself really admit what I was feeling for him because I thought I was in a relationship with someone else. But this time there won’t be anyone between us. So...” Duo draws a deep breath. “Okay,” he continues, his voice stronger and more determined. “Heero, all I want is one chance – just one chance – to fall in love with you.”

Although his vision is suddenly, inexplicably blurry, Heero can sense Quatre’s gaze on him. He blinks a few times to clear his eyesight as the young man approaches him, pulling his jacket on, no doubt intending to make a discrete exit.

Duo’s friend heads for the door, nodding to Heero as he passes. “I think you can take it from here,” he mouths.

Heero nods and replies with a silent, “Thank you.”

Quatre grins and soundlessly opens the front door. But then, right before he would have stepped into the hall, Quatre turns to take a moment to study Heero. His gaze rakes shrewdly over Heero’s figure before Quatre looks him in the eye again. With a single, decisive nod, Quatre informs him, “Acceptable.” And then the door closes behind him.

Heero stands there, flowers held before him, blinking for a moment. But then Duo’s voice carries through the apartment and Heero’s speculation on _what_ exactly Quatre had meant by that last bit is put on immediate hold.

“Hey, Q? How was that? Did it sound all right?”

The sound of movement draws Heero’s gaze to one of the slightly opened doors. He finds himself holding his breath as glimpses of Duo’s form can be seen. Then the door opens wider as Duo calls again, “Oi, Quatre? Was that okay?”

Heero draws in a sharp breath at Duo’s appearance: hip-hugging, tailored black slacks; a very snug, stretchy blue button-down shirt that reveals glimpses of Duo’s collarbone and his taut navel; a black leather jacket slung over his arm; his loosely but neatly plaited hair trailing down his spine. It takes Heero only a moment to absorb the sight of him. Incidentally, it’s the same moment Duo realizes he’s no longer speaking to Quatre.

Through a suddenly dry throat, Heero forces out hoarsely, “Perfect.”

****Duo’s initial**** reaction to seeing a very sexy, dazed-looking Heero hovering in the archway to his living room holding a bouquet of sunflowers is Immediate Blind Panic. For a long moment, he doesn’t breathe. Doesn’t think. He’s not even sure his heart’s still beating.

And then at the sound of Heero’s voice – which confirms that Duo is __not__ imagining this – he thinks: _Quatre, you slimy manipulative sadistic little bastard!_

But alas, now is not the time to expound on his best friend’s more controversial qualities...

“Heero?” he manages to choke out. “Er... how? When?”

A gentle smile pulls at the other man’s lips, drawing Duo’s immediate attention. “Quatre let me in,” he replies quietly. “No cookies, though. Sorry.”

Duo grins back. “Figures,” he says, not caring the least about the absence of said cookies.

A moment of expectant silence descends between them and Duo finds himself witnessing a slight tension in Heero. It takes Duo a moment to realize he’s trying to find the right words. Belatedly, Duo realizes he’s see this expression from Heero before. Several times.

In an attempt to keep the silence from becoming awkward, Duo steps forward and regards the flowers. A nice, safe topic of conversation. “Sunflowers?” he asks.

One corner of Heero’s mouth lifts in a sheepish grin. “Um, yes. Dolores said you liked them.”

Duo grins broadly. “You asked Dolores what kind of flowers I like?”

“Well, no,” Heero admits. “I asked her what the best way is to apologize to you.” He hesitates briefly. “She said you had good memories of these.”

Duo closes the distance between them and trails his fingertips along the edge of the petals. “I do,” he replies. For a moment, he’s taken back to his childhood, back to the field of sunflowers behind his old house. He closes his eyes briefly, inhaling the scent of them... and of Heero.

He opens his eyes and looks up into Heero’s. He smiles. “Let’s get something to put them in...” he says softly, stepping away and wandering into the kitchen. He can hear Heero’s footsteps behind him as they pass into the kitchen, can feel the other man’s presence, can almost taste his complete and undivided attention focused solely on him.

With hands that shake just a little, Duo carefully removes another tumbler from the cupboard and moves toward the sink. He watches as the cold water tap fills the glass and wonders what to do next. Does Heero’s presence here mean what he thinks it does? What he _hopes_ it does?

Noticing the rising level of the water in the glass, Duo starts to reach for the tap but a hand reaches around him to shut it off. Duo closes his eyes briefly, feeling the rasp of Heero’s dress shirt against his own. He’s so close he can almost feel the heat of Heero’s skin through the layers of cloth...

With a breath, Duo opens his eyes as Heero’s chest brushes against his back. The hand that had shut off the tap now rests on the edge of the counter. The other presents the bunch of flowers and gently lowers them into the glass in the sink. Bracketed as he is by Heero’s body, Duo allows himself a moment of heaven. Without thinking, he catches a hold of Heero’s wrist before he can withdraw and wraps his arm loosely around his stomach.

“I’m sorry you had to find out about... my mix-up like you did, Heero. I know it must have hurt when you realized I thought I’d been calling someone else.” Duo pauses before continuing in a soft, reverent tone, “I don’t know how you managed to be there for me last night. I... I don’t think I could have done it.” He curls his fingers tightly around Heero’s wrist. “I meant what I said: you really are a very good friend.”

For a moment, perhaps two, there is no reply. Against his neck, he can feel Heero’s breaths.

“Duo?” he whispers.

“Hm?”

“Why aren’t you angry with me?”

Duo runs his fingertips over the back of Heero’s hand where it rests against his abdomen. “Should I be?”

Quietly, he admits, “Yes. I knew you had to be calling the wrong number. As soon as I heard your voice, I knew it. But I didn’t speak up fast enough and then you were...”

Duo shivers as Heero touches the tip of his nose to the side of Duo’s neck and breathes him in.

“The sound of your voice was...” Words fail him but Duo thinks he understands what Heero wants to say. “And then, afterwards, what you said... I started to think that you _had_ meant to call me after all. It wasn’t until last night that I realized I had no reason to think that except... except that I _wanted _to believe it.”

Duo’s eyes drift closed again at the ache in Heero’s voice. His familiar voice. Speaking to him like this is almost painfully familiar. Just the sound of a voice. The imagined warmth of a body...

But it’s not imagined anymore.

“I’m sorry for deceiving you. For confusing you. I... Duo, I _am_ sorry for that. But I’m not sorry you called the wrong number that night. I’m not sorry at all.”

Duo slowly collects Heero’s other hand and wraps that arm around his waist. “I didn’t call the wrong number, Heero,” Duo replies softly. He smiles and it can be heard in his voice. “I’d been calling the wrong number for six months.” He leans to the side to so that he can look into Heero’s dark eyes. “That night, I finally called the _right_ one.”

In reply, Heero leans over Duo’s shoulder and resumes his caress of Duo’s neck. Duo’s eyelids droop as the touches induce both a tingling in his veins and a lethargy in his muscles. His lips part as the tip of Heero’s nose stops just below his ear... in the same spot as where their second time on the phone had started.

Drawing in a shaky breath, Duo readies himself for the remaining words he has to say. “You never gave me an answer.”

“About what?”

Duo almost closes his eyes as Heero gently nuzzles a lock of hair back over his ear. In a whisper, he formally asks, “Can I have that chance to fall in love with you?”

Heero doesn’t immediately reply. He simply continues to survey the skin revealed above Duo’s collar. Gradually, Duo relaxes against him, deciding he’ll take this response as an affirmative reply.

Completely focused as he is on Heero’s attention to his neck, he doesn’t feel one of Heero’s arms unwrapping from around his torso. Gradually, however, he becomes aware of his left hand being lifted, of his body being turned, until he’s leaning back against the sink and Heero is cradling Duo’s hand, palm up, between them.

Duo watches as Heero leans away, raises the hand, and looks directly into Duo’s eyes as he leans over to brush a kiss in its very center. Duo shivers at both the contact from his lips and the teasing feel of Heero’s warm fingertips caressing the sensitive skin between his own fingers and along his wrist.

And in a husky whisper, Heero tells him, “You never even had to ask.”

****With the night’s**** meal ordered, Heero replaces the phone in its cradle. A corner of his mouth lifts into a crooked grins as he takes note of the fact that Duo _still _hasn’t let Heero ask him out to dinner. One of these days, Heero assures himself, he’s going to get the question out before Duo can interrupt him.

“Hey, you all right?”

Heero nods as Duo wraps an arm around his waist from behind. In all honestly he doesn’t really care what they have for dinner or where – if they go out or stay in. He just wants to be with Duo.

Duo’s arm tightens briefly before he says with a grin Heero can hear in his voice, “I promise I’ll let you ask me out... eventually.”

Heero laughs.

With tug on his elbow, Duo leads him over to the couch and they settle in side-by-side with shoulders touching waiting for the pizza to arrive. Duo seems to notice the way Heero’s gaze is drawn to a few of the photographs in the room, and introduces him to the subjects.

Between vivid descriptions of Quatre’s strange sense of humor and playful stories about Solo, Heero finds himself in a constant state of grinning and softly chuckling. He relaxes even further until he’s leaning against Duo’s shoulder and the other man’s fingers have laced through his own as their hands rest on Duo’s thigh.

He listens to the sound of Duo’s voice and draws in a deep breath, taking in the subtle scent of him. Having seen a glimpse of the passionate, giving sexual man Duo is Heero finds it difficult to not think about initiating something tonight to reaffirm their bond. But that’s not how Heero wants to experience his first time with Duo. He wants it to be out of love not out of insecurity. He wants it to be a symbol of commitment not an emotional release. It had been a very difficult decision to make. Even now, Heero’s not completely sure his resolve won’t crumble before the evening’s out.

But as he listens to the sound of Duo’s voice as he relates the time Quatre put orange marmalade in all of Solo’s clean underwear but Duo got blamed for it, Heero thinks that perhaps Duo feels the same way about the next step in their relationship. After all, they’d only met five days ago.

“Hey, you still listening to me?”

Heero nods. “Mm hmm.”

Duo chuckles. “Well, damn. You must really like me if you can be entertained with my dumb stories.”

“Not dumb,” Heero protests quietly. “And yes, I am entertained.” His fingers tighten briefly around Duo’s. “And you read my note, right? So you know how I feel about you.”

Duo nods. “Yeah,” he replies, voice low and little thick. “I know.”

Heero’s eyes close as Duo turns toward him and brushes a kiss through Heero’s hair.

And that’s when the pizza arrives.

The moment is put on hold for another time as Duo sighs and Heero shifts away to answer the door. He can see Duo getting up from the couch and moving toward the entertainment center, presumably to start a movie or put in some music.

Heero opens the door and pays the delivery kid. But when the teenager would have just wished him a good night, he nods instead to something on the floor in the hall just beyond the door.

“Looks like there’s a package out here for you, too.”

Frowning, Heero watches as the boy picks up a plain, white box and hands it to Heero.

“Thanks,” he says.

The kid nods farewell and takes himself off.

Heero shoulders the door shut, wondering what is in the second box and who could have left it there.

“Whatcha got there? That doesn’t look like a pizza.”

Heero heads back into the living room and sets the pizza box on the coffee table. The smaller, white box he hands to Duo. “It was sitting outside the door.”

“Oh really? Hm...” Duo mutters with eyes narrowing in speculation. “Q better not have left anything obscene behind as a joke. He’s already going to get a rather disrespectful voice mail message from me about not telling me when you got here...”

He resumes his seat on the couch and pries the lid open. And pauses.

After a moment, Heero realizes Duo has neither moved nor spoken and is simply staring into the box. He abandons opening the pizza carton and sits down next to him. Heero frowns at the inside of that parcel before carefully reaching forward and lifting it out. By pure luck, he manages to hold it upright and finds himself regarding a myriad of carefully tailored, tin foil stars rotating gently.

Suddenly snapping out of his daze, Duo heads purposefully to the phone. Heero wonders what is bothering Duo so much but contents himself with listening to one half of the conversation.

“Hey, Anita? It’s Duo. Dolores went home for the night, right?”

A slight pause.

“Actually, yes. Could you please check on Bobby Edison in room 207?”

Another pause. Longer this time.

“A water leak? Are you sure that room’s closed?”

Duo listens to the reply, looking shaken.

“How long?”

Heero frowns a little with puzzlement. Duo slowly gravitates back to the couch.

“Four days ago? You’re sure?” Pause. “Well, maybe I have the room number wrong...”

Duo sits down beside Heero again, phone still pressed to his ear. After a moment of silent waiting, Heero hears the faint echo of the night nurse’s voice over the line.

“I’m sorry, Dr. Maxwell, but I’m not seeing a patient record for a Bobby Edison.”

“Nothing at all?” Duo checks again, voice thin with shock.

“No. I’m sorry.”

“That’s... that’s all right, Anita. Thanks for checking. I must have picked up one of Dr. Harding’s old patient files or something this afternoon by accident.”

Duo takes a moment more to assure her everything is fine and he’s probably just in need of a short vacation before he rings off. Heero says nothing, absorbing the news.

The hospital has no record of a Bobby Edison. And they should have. Even if Bobby had been released that evening, they would have had his patient history on file... But, according to Anita, they don’t.

“Bobby made that,” Duo says quietly, his gaze riveted on the mobile. “He wanted to show it to you this morning...”

Heero doesn’t know what to say to that. Hell, he doesn’t even know what to _think._ He starts to carefully lower the mobile into the box again when something catches his attention.

“Duo,” he says, “there’s a note here.”

Heero lifts out the folded sheet of paper.

“And it’s addressed to both of us.”

“What?”

Duo leans closer to read the inscription before Heero unfolds it. The short message reads:

_Thank you for taking care of me but now it’s time for you to take care of each other._

_Your friend,_

_Bobby_

For a long moment, neither man moves. And then Duo reaches out and covers Heero’s hand with his own. His fingers brush against the paper and he wonders, “What’s going on, Heero?”

But by the tone of his voice, Heero thinks Duo already knows. Or at least suspects. A soft smile curves Heero’s lips. He turns and looks at Duo, wondering if he would have managed to be here right now at the beginning of a relationship with Duo, if it weren’t for Bobby. But there is no way to answer that thought, so he lets it go. Instead, he finds himself gazing into Duo’s eyes and thinking – wondering – what the odds must be of meeting not one but _two_ angels in his lifetime.

* * *

  
** **[Epilogue]** **

A few days after that, Heero and Duo shared their first kiss.

That’s right. And it happened right beneath my mobile.

I know I’m not supposed to have favorites, but when it comes to Duo and Heero I can’t help it. I have to stop by every once in a while to see how they’re doing. 

It didn’t really surprise me when Heero quit the police force and enrolled in flight school. Just like it didn’t really surprise me when Duo decided to specialize in children’s spinal cord injuries. Even though I keep an eye on them, I doubt they realize I’m here. But that’s okay.

This is my job, after all.

You might be wondering if I had a hand in “helping” Duo program his new telephone that fateful day. Sorry to disappoint you, but the answer is “No.” That was all Duo’s doing. Some might say it was a very strange coincidence. I don’t believe in coincidences. Because, you see, that’s what I do: I make “coincidences” happen. But only the good ones. I knew as soon as I was called to this place that Heero and Duo needed me. I knew they wouldn’t be able to come together on their own. And that was where I stepped in.

One Bobby Edison to the rescue.

They still remember me. I know because my mobile still hangs in their living room window. And I haven’t used the name of that particular incarnation since. Call me sentimental, but that part of me belongs exclusively to Heero and Duo’s memories.

And I shall always remember them. The Doc and Officer Yuy. The Healer and the Card Shark. Believe it or not, Heero’s lessons on poker have come in very handy over the years.

Yes, _years._ I hover close by, waiting for the time when I’ll be needed to help them find each other again in their next lifetimes. But that’s a ways off yet and they both know it as well. They don’t need any help connecting for the reminder of the next five decades or so. That’s what telephones are for...

** **The End** **

**Author's Note:**

> Gundam Wing fanfic news & updates can be found on my Kofi page -- https://ko-fi.com/manny -- where I blog and (occasionally) post shinies and (compulsively) caffeinate. If you are inclined to support my habit, you can do so here. (^_~)
> 
> Also! My GW fanfic and fanart hub is still-always-and-forever at LiveJournal -- themanwell.livejournal.com


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